Displacement in the Old Republic 2
by CPunchMaster
Summary: The Jedi are all but defeated, and the Republic is on the verge of collapse. It's been five long years since I helped stop Malak and the Sith, and I've somehow been drawn into saving the galaxy yet again. Self-Insert. Sequel to Displacement in the Old Republic.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Displacement in the Old Republic 2

Chapter 1: Prologue

"Everything you can imagine is real."

~Pablo Picasso

**Author's Note: … And this is **_**Displacement in the Old Republic **_**2. If you're a reader who has read the first story and have found yourself here, thanks for your continued support. As you know from the author notes in the end of **_**Displacement in the Old Republic**_**, this here is the sequel. KotOR 2 this time, but it's going to be very interesting, I think. And there will be cut content. Not all of it, but some.**

**If you've found this without reading **_**Displacement in the Old Republic**_**, I implore you to read that first. It gets better after the first chapter, don't worry!**

* * *

I've never really been much of a morning person. Always been much more of a night owl, and that hasn't changed despite the strange list of things that have happened to me over the years. At least this job is flexible, lets me work at reasonable times instead of four in the bloody morning. At least the later mornings help with the headaches I get from the previous nights.

I've got to admit, it's also nice to have a job where you're not sitting down, doing the same thing over and over again for eight hours.

First things first, I've got an appointment with the Duros in the other wing of the apartments here. Opo Chano. I could have gotten my blaster fixed in numerous different shops on the station, but he's smart enough to not ask a whole lot of questions, and he does owe a rather sizeable amount of money... Not a particularly good choice, especially if his profits remain at such a low level. It's still a better option than betting your girlfriend in a Pazaak game, though. What an idiot.

Not a terribly big upset, though. Those two were always arguing, and I don't think there was anyone in this section of Citadel Station that wasn't familiar with their antics.

I close the the apartment door behind me, making sure that the locking mechanism engages. Security went around just a few days ago, interviewing about a bit of local theft. I'd wish them luck breaking into my residence, but it would be pretty easy if I was thick enough to leave everything unlocked. Okay, all good. I walk out into the main module, and into another series of apartments.

I only woke up an hour or two ago, so the artificial lighting is doing wonders whilst it burns my retinas out. I've always preferred natural sunlight to this, but I guess that's the price you pay for when you live on a space station. With all the talk of a fuel crisis recently, you've got to wonder why they haven't started turning everything off at 'night'. 'Night' being a relative term here. Everyone follows the same cycle as the landmass below the station, but it's just not quite the same as living down there.

Not that anyone would do that, though. Telos is not habitable.

I knock four times in quick succession on the apartment door, which slides open just a second later. Prompt, good. The Duros, Opo, seems to be working on a droid's head on a workbench, but I do see my blaster resting on the same workstation, looking almost exactly the same as when I left it.

"_Mr. ******_?" Opo greets me, the alien suddenly stopping his own work. "_I've taken care of the targeting problems. Nothing too complicated, just a rather simple fix_."

I paid him yesterday when I dropped it off, thankfully. I grab the weapon, examining it in my hands while Opo seems to hang on desperately for my approval. "Thanks," is all I have to say as soon as I realise that I'm content with his work. The weapon feels right again. As long as I've had that pistol, I can just tell when something is wrong, even before I pulled the trigger a few days ago and nothing happened.

Alright, holstering that… I notice that the Duros is still waiting for something. Of course. "I don't know when they'll be around again, mate. Sorry. But I do suggest you do something about the money you owe."

I can see the frustration in his alien features, made even more obvious by the way he rather viciously restarts his work. I very briefly consider trying to make him feel better about all this, but it just isn't my place. That used to be me – but it isn't anymore. Besides, I've got my own things to do, and I don't really believe that Opo would be uplifted by anything I've got to say.

Brief, but good enough. I head back out of the apartment complex, already walking towards my next location. Not into the office, I don't know if I've had enough drinks to deal with the two troublemakers in there. I was warned yesterday by Opo that any repairs to blasters have to be reported to the TSF. The paperwork has already been sent off to them, they just want to see the blaster. After all, modifications aside from repair are illegal on the station. Though, from what I've seen – they're not doing a great job of enforcing that policy.

There's a small shuttle just a few dozen meters away, and by the looks of it, there's nobody else in it. And since it isn't rush hour, it ought to leave at my whim for the Entertainment Module. I've wondered this since the day I got here, but why on Earth do the TSF keep their offices in a module with shops and cantinas? It's only useful to haul in drunks.

The Telos Security Force. TSF. They remind me a lot of the TSA – they're just as useless, and have enough red tape that nothing is actually being done. It's even worse when they can tell people are breaking the law, and they're not doing anything about it. Not that I'm in a great position to talk, but it's still worth noting.

This whole 'we need to restore Telos' effort sounds good on paper, but this massive space station in orbit is a waste of time and space when you start to look at the numbers. The Ithorians are doing a great job, but it doesn't change the fact that Telos was pulverised back during the war against the Sith.

There's only a tiny little viewport in this shuttle, and the view outside is just as normal as it is every other day. I see few ships in the distance, one of which looks pretty sizeable. Probably the regular shipment of Peragus. Every once in a while I wonder about that place, and if the events leading up to its destruction will happen. Things have changed – I've said it a thousand times, and there's no guarantee that what I know will come true.

A few moments later, and I'm here at my destination. I leave a few credits to the pilot up front, and head out the open hatch on the right side of the shuttlecraft. The difference between the Entertainment and Residential Modules is drastic, even at this time of day. As great as it might be, I pass the cantina. I could just grab one before I wait for three hours in security's dungeons…

No, not right now.

I head up around the ramp in front of me, and I'm greeted with the lovely TSF sign. Honestly, why, in an Entertainment Module? Is it so they arrest people as soon as they start an intoxicated bar fight? They haven't really been doing that, either. There's no officers in the main lobby, just a useless, battered and rusty droid.

"I've got an appointment," I walk up to the machine, leaning against the counter. "Weapon repair certification."

"One moment," the obnoxious thing pauses, one hundred per cent immobilised. "One moment… Very well, Lieutenant Dol Grenn will see you now."

I walk past the rather old machine and into the TSF office. The first time I had to come in here, I was nervous as all hell – uncertain of where I was going and paranoid that the TSF was going to lock me up and throw me in jail. Thankfully, I've survived this long, haven't I? Not to mention, if what _I've_ done is enough for the TSF to come get me, they have quite a few people in my office that are going first.

As if the idiotic security force could do anything about it. Firstly, they don't exactly have any evidence, and secondly, it's almost a joke about how incompetent they are about this sort of thing. A drunk picking a fight, or a robbery, that's something the TSF can handle, and they do a fair enough job at it.

But with-?

"Of course, you're back," Grenn's drawling voice greets me, and I can very much hear the notes of mockery in there. "Didn't I tell you last time you were here to replace that or simply get rid of it?"

"I think I told you it's a damn fine gun," I counter, and get ready to make a strike of my own – in our never-ending fencing match. Some days have been amusing, and some times that security officer pisses me off to no end. "It's a fine piece of equipment, age aside, and that's something I wouldn't exactly expect any TSF officer to realise."

I hand the pistol over, checking the safety out of habit. Of course it's still on, but it's a habit I've had for as long as I can remember owning this weapon. Grenn takes it in his hands, looking it over. "Same as before, top of the line weapon, five years old, right?"

Five years.

Five years since I got that pistol – five years since I joined Revan, Carth and all the rest in a quest to save the galaxy from the evils of Darth Malak. It seems like so long ago, but at the same time, I can remember it so well. The good times, the times where I got my ass kicked… Some of the best moments I can remember of my life.

Five years since I met Mission, and all of that was thrown on my lap.

Five years… since the incident. That's what I've been calling it all this time. Even though I heard the technical details from Selena, I'm not calling it a quantum tunnelling singularity, or whatever it was. Just… the incident. People have asked about my past, and I've gotten quite a bit better at lying over the years, that's for sure. Ever since I started saying 'a series of incidents led me to Taris,' that's what I've been calling it ever since. It changed my life, for better or for worse. The first of a few rather important events. Not to mention, after the incident-.

"This appears to check out, I'm almost surprised you haven't tried to get anything illegal past me. The people under you sure think we're stupid here."

"That's not entirely unwarranted," I parry. Conversations with Grenn almost always turn out like this – verbal sparring. "It's sort of amusing whenever one of my co-workers gets picked up, they seem to be right back out."

"You have friends in high places," Grenn points out. "Otherwise I'm sure a lot of you would be looking at prison time."

"If that's all, I'll be taking this back," I snatch my blaster pistol, placing it in the usual holster.

"Good, I actually have things to do. You might not, but I do more with my people than watch them and occasionally yell at them."

I roll my eyes, and head out of the TSF office, ignoring a comment from the protocol droid as I leave. I do kind of like how the TSF have a lovely window to look out of, that way if you work there, you can look outside while you contemplate how miserable your life is. Though, in all fairness, it isn't like there's a whole lot to see out of the window when you're on Citadel Station. A few ships, but otherwise, it looks like a bunch of orange and silver squares!

I guess it's the middle of the day, so there isn't too much of a reason to head for the cantina. I'm surprised that Green didn't have anything to say about that. I've gotten into a scuffle with his people in there before. And because of my position, I rather nicely got out of it.

Still, I really don't want to go into the office. It's in an interconnecting module, so there's not really any major reason for me to not be in there. Those idiots do need supervision, but they haven't gotten to the level where I need to be watching them all the bloody time. But I don't have anything else that I could be doing…

Sighing, I head across the entertainment module, and patiently wait for the door to open into the next module. There's a little bit more activity in here than in the entertainment module. The Ithorian complex is pretty close to where I work, so there are a couple of those guys walking around. I make an effort to keep my distance; they're not big fans of me or anyone else at the office.

Speaking of which, I guess it's time to go see what everyone else is up to…

My finger hovers over the door controls, and right then – my datapad rings with a single note. Oh, good. A message, that could at least me stop me for just a moment. No matter what it is – it gives me a minute to delay going to the dread place of death.

It might not be that bad, but it really does wear on me.

I pull out my datapad, a device that I quickly got used to after the Star Forge quest, and find the new message that I'm using as an excuse to not get any work done. Could just be anyone, hell, it could be a chain message for all I know. However, my heart stops when I read who sent the message to me.

The contents aren't any better.

_There is data that you need to process_. _Contact immediately_.

Oh, cock.

Great, this is absolutely fantastic. Things are just getting better all the time. I changed my mind, I'd actually rather go our offices than talk to this … thing. However, I get to go all the way back to my apartment, since I had to put a communications device in there when I first got out to Citadel Station. That was before we actually got anything set up here on Telos…

I'm not going to look like an idiot by breaking out into a spring, but I move quite quickly through a few modules before I find myself back where I started this day. Residential Module 081. It doesn't take very long for me to find my home, open the door and then quickly close it. The lights are automatic, so that's something I don't have to do.

The room isn't very large, and it's in a stupid octagon shape. But now that I'm thinking about my life, I just sort of realised how sterile and lifeless it is. A bed, desk and a computer. The communications panel, and a locker for armour and weapons. There aren't any pictures, no personal items. Except for the one that is face down on my desk. I ignore the urgency that I should be paying attention to, and turn it back up…

It's a picture of Mission and me.

I haven't seen her in almost two years. Thanks to all of this…

I flip the picture back to its original position, and move to answer my communications system. My boss wants to speak with me – and a touch of a button later, the line is opened. As a result, a blue hologram appears in front of me, that of a middle aged man.

"Hello Goto," I groan.

Goto. He does quite a good job of hiding his actual identity, doesn't he? Thanks to KotOR 2, I used to have a bit of a leg-up over him in regards to his background. He's actually a droid, G0-T0, and he runs the Exchange. He's my boss. He uses this stupid hologram to hide the fact that he's an artificial construct.

"Your response time is improving," the hologram sneers, but his voice is level. "A matter of some urgency has come to my attention. A Jedi is on her way to Telos."

"And you want me to tell Slusk and Luxa about this, remind them that you have a bounty on live Jedi?" I ask, not hiding my lack of enthusiasm.

"I have already notified them," Goto answers. "Your job is no different than it has been since I rescued you from that prison. You are to supervise my activities on Citadel Station, and ensure that your other agents are following my directives."

I do really hate that Goto can hold something over me like that. But he's right, he did sort of break me out of jail two years ago. Hell, that's when my life went straight to the dumps. Before that, I was doing fine! I was living with Mission, things were going well. Said goodbye to Revan, and then the Jedi used me as a scapegoat for his disappearance.

And then you find yourself working for the Exchange.

"However, I am sending you additional information about the Jedi, which I have yet to release to Slusk or Luxa." Goto continues. "This Jedi is particularly infamous for the final battle of the Mandalorian Wars."

"Malachor V?" I frown. I've heard plenty about that battle since the day I arrived in this universe.

"Indeed. You are to ensure that the Jedi is captured, and kept out of the hands of the Republic."

"Thanks for the information," I sarcastically say, crossing my arms.

Goto isn't amused by that, and go figure. He lacks any sense of humour. "I would suggest that you watch your tone. The fact that we are having a conversation at all is a special circumstance."

I keep my mouth shut, and Goto just keeps going. "The Jedi will be arriving at Citadel Station in less than a day. The TSF will likely investigate and impound their ship, as it is coming from Peragus – which has ceased all operations sixteen hours ago."

Oh, no.

"I'll take a look at the files," I mutter, noticing that Goto is sending me quite a few documents. I move to turn off the communications, but apparently my boss does so first. Well, that was rude. Doesn't matter, I've got much, much more important things to worry about.

Peragus is gone. That hasn't changed, but more importantly – that's the beginning of KotOR 2. The Sith try to stop the Exile, last of the Jedi at Peragus, and the whole planet blows up as a result.

And they have no choice but to come here. And while they're looking for a way to get off Citadel Station, I do believe the Exile and … her party kill everyone. At least, I think Goto said that the Exile is a she.

I don't like this. I need to find some way out of here.

Well, one thing is for sure. My life is fucked up. Well, more so than it already is.


	2. Chapter 2: Change of Plans

Chapter 2: Things Went Wrong

"Common sense is the genius of humanity."

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

**Author's Note: What has happened in the past five years, you ask? Let's find out.**

**Okay, a couple little things. I just recently found out the Exile has a 'canon' name, but I'm not using for various reasons. Sorry if you're a big fan of it or something. Also, I'm sure some of you are wondering – yes, I am dealing with a great deal of the cut content from KotOR 2. Not all of it, but most.**

* * *

This looks really familiar, but I'm not entirely sure… Sadly, I've seen plenty of desolate planets and caves all over the galaxy. Still… Really familiar. Oh, I got it!

The Valley of the Dark Lords, that's where I'm standing. I recognise it, the same place we were all exploring five years ago. The same toppled pillars, same tombs in the background. How did I get here though? I can't really remember...

I take a few steps through the crevice, and look right into the cave entrance. The Shyrack invested cave. But there's something compelling about it, I can't put my finger on it, though.

"We pick people like you, people we know won't be missed, who are capable completing the task at hand. Nothing more. You weren't even the first on the list, you were number sixty seven."

I spin around, severing my interest with the unusual cave, expecting to see the woman responsible for my life being flipped upside down all those years ago. Instead, the words are coming from the mouth of Revan, the man I knew as Darius. I thought he left for the Unknown Regions? That's what he told me two years ago!

"We gave you a new life," the Jedi says, his voice shifting from Selena's into his own. "And this is how you've elected to spend it?"

"I didn't have a choice," I argue, slightly annoyed that Darius is taking the time to judge me. Shouldn't you be in the Unknown Regions? I mean, I remember when you came by my apartment, said you were leaving, and then… Gone.

Luxa's all too familiar voice comes from my right. "Did you hear that, handsome? He didn't have a choice. Good justification for everything he's done."

Uh, how did you get here, too? I don't like you very much, you really ought to go away right about now. I look away from Darius to figure out how Luxa got here, and apparently she just appeared. And judging by the tentacles, it looks like Slusk is here too. Oh, joy. Things are getting better and better.

"_Typical human evasion_," Slusk growls. "_Always afraid, always coming up with excuses_. _It's in your nature_."

Oh good, now I'm being judged by everyone! I look back at the Shyrack cave, ignoring Darius. I take a single step into the cave, right as the opening starts to collapse. And there's a rock, I don't think it's going to agree all that well with my skull…

* * *

Damn, that was pretty freaking… odd. I've had some strange dreams before, and some pretty intense ones like the nightmare I had about Taris' destruction. But still – that one was quite peculiar. Must just be the stress or something. Dreams are not worth worrying about, they're just that. Dreams.

I force myself out of bed, not bothering to make it afterwards. I throw on a loose pair of workout clothes and make my way to the physical training facility in the Residential Module.

According to Goto, the Jedi is under house arrest at the moment. Much as I expected, they were arrested when the _Ebon Hawk_ landed aboard the station. Not long afterwards, a Batu Rem attempted to assassinate her. Some stupid idiot trying to get the bounty, but he's dead now. Thankfully, he wasn't anyone who works here, or Goto would be destroying my ass. His orders were quite clear. Capture the Jedi alive, dead is unacceptable.

Yesterday, after I spoke with Goto, I tried to recall every piece of information about the second KotOR game that I could. I don't want to get involved in saving the galaxy again, that's for sure. But it seems increasingly likely that I may be crossing paths with the Exile whilst she's here on Citadel Station. My background gives me an edge, but I do remember what happens to the Exchange here on the station.

So, the Exile woke up on Peragus, the fuel mining colony – on the run from the Sith. During the escape from that place, the Exile ran into Darth Sion and blew up the whole planet. They had no choice but to come here to Telos, and by this point, the _Ebon Hawk_ must have just been stolen by Atris, the Jedi hiding in Telos' polar ice caps.

My memory seems to be one of the few things I haven't messed up.

I perform another press-up, not stopping to wipe the slight amount of perspiration that has started to accumulate on my forehead.

So what's next? The Exile could side with the annoying Ithorians or the pesky Czerka, doing a few errands for whichever side she chooses. One of them involves destroying the Exchange. And then she'll continue along on her own merry way, going down to the surface and eventually confront Atris. Her quest from there is something I will not become involved with.

And I'm not stupid, if I join the other Exchange members in trying to bring in a live Jedi, I'm going to be killed.

I wonder if I just somehow stay away from all of this, and come up with some sort of lie to tell Goto, maybe I could get out of this alive and I won't have to go after the Jedi. But, if the Exchange's operations are halted here, goodness knows where I could end up. Hopefully not back on Nar Shaddaa. I was there briefly before after I joined the Exchange, it isn't a pleasant place.

The best way to think of Nar Shaddaa is to take the worst place in Gotham city, then use it to cover an entire planet. When you combine this with the Hutts ruling over the planet as well as the vast amounts of power the Exchange has, the common person is incredibly powerless.

Alright, done with press-ups. I roll onto my back, and start with the next exercise. Sit-ups. I've gotten quite a bit better at doing this whole physical activity thing since I started five years ago. It took a while for me to realise that it's actually important. I remember complaining five years ago about being forced do things like this.

This is just dandy, though. I never thought this was going to happen, and now that it has things have become much more complicated. I guess I should have been thinking about it, but maybe there has just been part of me that thought KotOR 2 might not come to pass.

I mean, yes, five years ago I showed up in a world I originally saw in a video game. But there were differences, not just gameplay becoming reality. Throughout the journey to stop Malak and the Sith, I started to realise that I've made small differences by being in this place.

What's that saying, the wrong man in the right place?

And maybe there are some differences, I don't know. I don't particularly care, either. The big picture of KotOR 2 seems to have started regardless. And I need to find some way out of here.

I'm not really getting any ideas at the moment, at least, not any that don't end with me either getting killed by the Jedi or Goto. Neither of those options sound particularly inviting.

I don't have a lot of time to come up with something either, hopefully I can think while I finish up here. Now that I'm done with sit-ups, I guess it's time to run for a bit before I need to head into the office and speak with Slusk and Luxa. Maybe Benok as well… But dealing with Slusk is always much more of a chore than it really should be. He's the one that manages the Exchange operations here on Citadel Station. And he's damn arrogant, and certainly isn't pleased with my role – matching sure that nobody, Slusk included, is trying to circumvent Goto's orders.

I can deal with Slusk, he's a businessman that just needs to be reminded who his boss is. Luxa on the other hand, she's quite tricky to deal with. Goto isn't a fan of breaks in the chain of command, promoting yourself by killing your superior. That seems to be Luxa's fascination, and she's had it for quite some time. A lot of my job consists of keeping an eye on her.

Needless to say, she doesn't like me. At one point, she tried to poison me. Bloody bitch, but at least the rest of my job hasn't been so hazardous to my health.

I smack the controls on the treadmill, pushing myself to go faster. Things might be spiralling out of control, but I still have a bit of time to myself.

It wasn't all that long ago that I failed miserably at this. I very much recall wheezing while trying to run through a meadow on Dantooine with Darius and Carth… Things have changed, though, haven't they? The world transformed so radically, that was one hell of an adjustment. It just took a few broken bones, a blaster injury and other odd injuries to get there.

Alright, keeping running… I might have made a mistake ramping this machine up so high, I'm nearly in a full sprint. I ignore the pain from pushing myself quite so hard. While I know that I'll regret this throughout the rest of the day, it almost feels good right about now. I can just tune out and have a moment without anyone else on this station harassing me.

When the time finally comes, I slow down the pace before shutting off the machine.

Well, no ideas. And now that I've worked out, there's no way to stall going into the office. Good thing I already know Luxa is going to try and use the Jedi to circumvent the way things run around here. Still, she's not going to be terribly pleased today, I'm guessing. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to deal with this sooner or later…

I wipe myself down, and head for my room. Thankfully, the Telosian Restoration Project seems to have a quite a bit of money. Or at least they did when they built this station. Entertainment Modules with plenty to do, Residential Modules are quite nice as well, they even have facilities like this one. Sure, the rooms could be a bit larger, but that's not terribly important.

As much money as it took to build Citadel Station, not to mention the costs of fuel it so it doesn't drop out of orbit, they probably could be done with the Restoration Project. That's why we're all here. The Ithorians want to restore the planet, and Czerka and the Exchange are just in it for the money.

Goto might not be the most pleasant boss, by any means, but he's damn good at maintaining a profit margin. Black markets, extortion, it does make quite a bit of money. And then there's the people that are thick enough to take a debt from the Exchange, like Opo Chano, the droid repairman. What started off as a few hundred credits is now over a thousand. Despite being a Republic-funded project to fix up Telos, Goto saw this place as quite the gold mine.

And there's the fact that Goto, or rather G0-T0, also functions to help stabilise the Republic and its economy. I don't really remember his origin story, but there was something about wanting to even out the Republic a bit. After all, from what I've heard, the Republic is basically broke. And now with Peragus gone… That was a major fuel centre. Goto might cut a nice profit, but I know he doesn't want this restoration project to fail. Otherwise, the Republic is going to be out on several trillion credits.

Not really all that great for helping the Republic survive.

At least I'm not one of the people Goto tries to get and help the fuel crisis we're going to experience without Peragus. Assuming Goto goes to anyone for help, I guess. Hey, I know, let's ration it and do whatever Jimmy Carter did… Not.

It doesn't take for long to get anywhere on this station, but my home is in the same module as the physical training facility, so a quick walk and I'm back in the little flat that I've been living in for about a year and a half or so. Right away, I go ahead and throw off my workout clothes, and head for the small, cramped bathroom that's sort of hidden away in here.

I know that there's a limit on the amount of water each room can use at a certain time, so I make it quick, practically darting in and out. Still, I do believe that I got even less time back on the _Ebon Hawk_.

Damn, I really need to stop thinking about all of that. I don't know what was up with me yesterday, it must have been when I had to have Grenn check my weapon out. Then, the floodgates opened. Ever since then, I keep thinking back five years ago. And I'm not quite happy about that. The only reason I've lasted this long with this particular job is I've tried to keep those memories at bay.

I guess that isn't really easy since I'm still using the same armour and weapons as I did back then. Both work quite well, most of the time. The blaster just needs occasional work, but I'm really comfortable with it. Not to mention, it's just damn good.

Huh, I kind of wonder where exactly the Exile is under house arrest, assuming she hasn't gotten out of that already. Could be in this very module, I guess. I can't think about that, I'm going to go insane trying to track her down or guess where she could be at any moment. Besides, aren't I trying to get away from that ordeal?

Frowning, I throw my armour on, attach my blaster and pocket my datapad. I also snatch up my access card and place in my other pocket. Confident that I have everything I need, I walk out of my room and head through the module, passing by Czerka's offices. They're annoying, that's for sure, if only because the lady in charge of their operations isn't really a big fan of the Exchange. I think Benok, Slusk's top thug, might have gotten into a sizeable fight with a couple of Czerka employees a few months back, that really didn't help things out at all.

"Koobis," I nod my head to greet the Rodian door guard, walking past him.

He's a decent door guard, I'll give him that. In the Exchange, though, that just means that he lacks the … backbone and skills that Benok and his lackeys possess. I kind of wonder why we have him, since the receptionist inside can open the door from there.

I sigh as I cross the threshold into the Exchange offices, glancing at the sign above the doorway. Bumani Exchange Corp. Why do we even bother? Anyone who has something resembling passing intelligence is going to know that this where the Exchange works.

The number of Gamorrean pig creatures is also a good indication. I really don't like those things, I haven't ever since the sewers on Taris. No, Stephen! Stop thinking about that, would you?

I walk through the first little room and stop at the reception desk. As always, the door into the actual offices is sealed shut, and a middle aged human woman is seated behind the desk. She's got her brown hair back, and is wearing some sort of green outfit. I haven't talked to her a whole lot, unless she's telling me that someone wants to speak with me. Unlike the rest of us, she isn't really a criminal. She just does her job and stays pretty quiet about everything that goes on in here.

Well, I'm not a criminal either… I'd like to think so, anyway.

"Hello Vula," I deadpan, handing her my access card. I wait patiently as she scans it, then hands it back. I don't know why we're required to have these, maybe it's to make sure we show up to work. I mean, I recognise everyone here. Sadly, they've all been here since the Exchange set up shop here on the station.

I take the card back, and walk through the now open door, into a considerably larger room. It's got everything, really. Plants, rather large window. The right of where I'm standing is where my own office is, Luxa's, and Slusk's. And where Slusk's thugs enjoy hanging out. To the left is where a lot of the computer equipment is, along with a holding cell. Probably in case we do get our hands on Jedi. These idiots haven't ever seen one in action, though. Otherwise they would be more hesitant about trying to capture one of them.

There's not a whole lot of Jedi left, though, are there? I remember hearing about Katarr not long after I got out of prison. Jedi Conclave, and what happened to them? They all died. I probably knew some of them, though. Right now, though, I don't have a lot of good feelings towards the Jedi. I did five years ago; I even told Bastila the truth about where I came from. And where did it get me, exactly?

Oh, that's right, it's not like I could forget.

A few days after I last saw Darius, Bastila came charging in. Mission wasn't there, but since I was stupid and told the Jedi about my past, she figured I would know something about where he went. And that led to being questioned for the disappearance of Revan. Funny how things work out.

Stupid, stupid me for trusting Bastila. That bit me in the ass. Things weren't going all that badly beforehand. I thought my life had turned around. I was happy.

I ignore the Gamorreans that are lurking about in the atrium, especially given the fact that they smell like ass. The only other members of that species I met were in the sewers, and these ones smell like they're still in a septic tank.

I walk through the atrium and bank right into a hallway. On the other side is another open area, where Slusk's minions are lurking. I head into the room, eying the three mercenaries with my usual amount of mistrust. There's Benok, an arrogant and cold dark-skinned human who spends a great deal of time boasting about his duelling abilities, or his custom gold blaster. He's the so called 'chief of security' for Slusk. Matu is a male Rodian who uses melee weapons, and gets quite a kick of it. I'd say he's a psychopath. And to top off this collection of goons is Nahata, an Aqualish. The same race as the guy that didn't like Luke Skywalker in the cantina in the original _Star Wars_.

Well, I don't have anything to say to any of these three, so I head for my own office in the corner. At least I have a door to separate myself, sometimes those guys can get quite rowdy.

I collapse in my seat, adjusting my blaster so that it doesn't poke into my side while I'm sitting down. I have a few datapads sitting on my desk, all of which I do need to be reading at some point during my day. I pick up the first, and stomach the urge to find something else to do. The top line… 'Liviana Seana.'

What, who is that? I read on, and realise that what I'm currently looking at is a list of planets… With duplicates, which means that it isn't a list of planets, instead it's actually a list of battles. Along with a physical description. I instead read back over the list of battles, and the last entry catches my eye. Malachor V, the last battle of the Mandalorian Wars. Ah, so this is the Jedi Exile, is it?

Interesting. I pick up the next datapad, and realise that it's a bunch of financial reports. It isn't even for the Exchange, somehow we've gotten a hold of information about Czerka and the Republic. I really don't want to look at this at the moment… I just sort of skim through it, the numbers blurring together into one hell of a mess.

I look up from my desk, expecting to see the door and nothing else. Instead, there appears to be a half-dressed pink woman. Oh, goodness. Hello Luxa. I see that she looks just the same as she did yesterday. She apparently doesn't believe in modesty, allowing everyone to see her pink skin. She's got short red hair, and she carries herself with an auroa of confidence. It's quite easy to see why this woman wants to be running things around here. Ambitious, and she doesn't get along well with Benok. Or me, for that matter.

When I first got here to Citadel Station, Luxa was the only other Exchange member present. It only took three days before she came up to me, and suggested that the two of us could arrange a slight accident with Slusk's ship when he got here. And, just to top things off, she was quite uh… flirty, but she does that with almost everyone from what I've noticed.

Needless to say, I declined her offer, pointing out that the reason I'm on this project at all is to make sure things like that don't happen. That dampened her mood quite a bit. Since then, our relationship has been rocky at best, hostile at worst. At one point, about a year ago, she rather nicely gave me a bottle of Tarisian Ale. Obviously Taris isn't around anymore, I would know – I was there! But since that happened, Tarisian Ale is damn expensive.

When I took it in for chemical analysis, it turns out the drink would have killed me. So, I returned it. Luxa was not pleased, to say the least. She avoided me for two weeks, which I was quite happy about.

Luxa is good at her job, I'll give her that. But her ambition is one of the main reasons I'm here at all!

"Yes, what do you want?" I ask, looking back at the financial reports that have rather suddenly become interesting.

The Zeltron walks up to my desk, placing a hand on it. "The Quarren wants to speak with both of us. I'm sure it's going to be an incredibly enlightening conversation, as always. If you can keep up with all the clicks."

I slam the datapad down against my desk, ignoring it as it flies into one of the metal walls. "This is about the Jedi, isn't it?"

"You know Slusk," Luxa smirks, taking a step backwards. "It'll be an hour of listening to each operation we're running here, another two hours of whatever he actually wants to talk about, then I'm sure Benok will show up just for good measure."

She always sounds calm and relaxed. If I didn't know better, I would actually find her easy to work with. But once you start to figure out who she really is, you realise that she just appears quite easy-going whilst she plots to destroy you and your entire family. Thankfully, I don't have family she can obliterate.

I get back on my feet, gesturing for Luxa to leave my office first. Once she's out, I join her, shutting the door behind me. We both pass Luxa's office, and wait for the Gamorreans to open the door to Slusk's room. I head inside once the entrance is open, noticing that his usual droid bodyguards are flanking the only way into this room. And, as always, there are two automated turrets around Slusk's desk. This guy is paranoid, but when you're leading criminal activities on this station, I guess you need to be.

"_My two favourite companions,_" the alien sneers, speaking in Huttese. "_My second in command and Goto's lap dog. I'm so happy to see both of you again before our regular meetings._"

That's the part of the regular work week that I've never enjoyed, a little conference with both Slusk and Luxa at the end of every week. There's enough snide comments and sarcasm to drown every animal on Telos' surface. At least Slusk deals with Benok, Matu and Nahata, but that does mean Luxa and I get to listen to what those idiots have been up to recently. Generally that consists of the three of them, particularly Benok, being picked up by TSF officers after a brawl or something. Now, I've had that happen once to me, but it's a weekly occurrence with those guys. Thankfully, the Exchange has quite a bit of power in the TSF and the Telosian Council, and nobody ever stays in prison here.

Actually, one time we left Benok in there for a few days, but that's aside the point.

"Don't worry, Slusk, I'm always happy to see you," I roll my eyes. "This is about the Jedi, isn't it?"

"_Always so astute, aren't you?_" Slusk says. "_Goto has instructions that the Jedi is to be shipped to Nar Shaddaa as soon as possible, dead or alive. If we aren't careful, the Republic ship sent to investigate Peragus' destruction will arrive here on the station. It will substantially more difficult to apprehend the Jedi when that occurs."_

Luxa shoots me a look of boredom while Slusk finishes. "We're not getting anywhere while you keep talking. My resources tell me that the Jedi recently met with Chodo Habat, and retrieved the Ithorian's intelligence droid from Docking Module 126. Czerka isn't terribly pleased with this."

Droid collection? Oh yeah, the Ithorians needed some sort of droid for their restoration project. I almost forgot about that quest. I think siding with the Ithorians, and their leader Chodo Habat, on Citadel Station is the light side option, but honestly, I'll be happy with any option that has Jana Lorso pissed off. I've only run into her once, but I've heard plenty about her from the Czerka employees. She seems to be a pretty strict supervisor. Slusk is the one that deals with her, though. Thankfully.

"You're forgetting something," I remind Slusk, "Goto wants the Jedi alive, not dead. You might have forgotten that little important bit of information."

"_As always, Goto's wishes are my command. Even his unhealthy fascination with the Jeedai,"_ Slusk says, slurring the word Jedi like a lot of Huttese speakers tend to do. "_The Jeedai's ship is missing. Right now, it has no way off the station. We could make it an offer._"

"She isn't an idiot," Luxa argues, placing quite a bit of emphasis on the word 'she,' since Slusk keeps calling the Jedi 'it.' For whatever reason. "A Jedi isn't going to voluntarily join forces with the Exchange, especially if she's working against Czerka."

"_Only a fool would side with the Ithorians. Peace loving fools._"

"I think we should use that to our advantage," Luxa suggests. "If we place even more pressure on the Ithorians, Opo Chano will use the Jedi against us and Czerka. Either way, it'll be much easier to potentially capture the Jedi. And deal with her companions."

"Companions?" I ask, making sure that my pre-existing knowledge matches up with what's actually going on.

"An old woman and a human male," Luxa says. "The TSF reports suggest there was a droid as well, but it was aboard their ship when it went missing."

"_Are they going to present a problem?_"

"I doubt it," the Zeltron answers. "The Jedi doesn't have a lightsaber, which is going to make things considerably easier. They're not all Jedi, anyways."

Well, I'm not sure about that. Based on what I know, one of those companions is Kreia – and she isn't anyone to be taken likely. So yeah, Luxa, you can just keep thinking that they aren't going to be a problem.

"Can we capture a Jedi? Even without a lightsaber, they aren't exactly easy to get a hold of."

"If they were actually that powerful, they wouldn't have all been wiped out," Luxa suggests, "Difficult, perhaps, but a Jedi isn't invincible."

"_If you think your plan is going to work, you can execute it._" Slusk leans his head to one side, which is a Quarren thing for… something. I'm not terribly good at non-verbal communication with aliens. He points to me with his clammy, wet hands. "_You and Luxa deal with the Jeedai._"

"While you take all the credit, right?" Luxa challenges, crossing her arms over her chest. I would hate to say it, but I'd agree with her. Loppak Slusk is normally a pretty sleazy guy, but this might be taking things a bit too far.

"_As Stephen would be quick to remind you, Luxa, Goto isn't pleased when his chain of command is violated,_" Slusk points out, even though just earlier he was talking about bringing the Jedi in dead, rather than alive. "_Someone needs to start pressuring the Ithorians after all_."

I do hate agreeing with Luxa, but sometimes this guy could really do with a blaster shot to the head.

"Fine, Slusk. We'll deal with it. Is there any other garbage you want to shove down my throat?" Luxa asks, already heading for the door. I can tell this conversation is basically over, so I do the same.

"_Not at the moment. Don't let the door hit either of you on the way out_," Slusk says, picking up a datapad on his desk in an effort to ignore the two of us. "_Send Benok in, would you?_"

Yeah, fuck you.

This job certainly sucks at times, and this would be one of them.

"I know you're here to preserve Goto's directives, but Slusk is going too far this time," Luxa mutters to me after we're outside of Slusk's earshot. "Everyone from here to Nar Shaddaa knows how high that bounty is. Slusk figures that Goto will give him a promotion and the monetary bonus for bringing in the Jedi."

"I agree," I sigh. "But what you're suggesting, the thing you've wanted to do since you got here… Goto isn't going to like that, I can tell you that much."

"You know, you are here as Goto's eyes and ears, right? If we both work against Slusk, Goto wouldn't have to know all of the unfortunate details. After all, he is a rather busy man."

I bite my lip, a bad habit I've had for nearly as long as I can remember. "You might hate Slusk, but Goto is still our boss," I point out. "You've seen how he manages things around here. Ruthless efficiency. I wouldn't want to be on his bad side, Luxa."

"Goto is obsessed with the Jedi," the woman sighs. "We should more concerned with Czerka Corporation or the loss of Peragus. Our operations aren't going to last long if Citadel Station plummets out of orbit. Instead, it's all Jedi."

"There aren't a lot left, not after Katarr," I say, "Nobody knows why he wants Jedi, but Goto gets what he wants."

"Thanks to people like you, but we'll have to see," Luxa warns, walking into her own office. "I have my own work to attend to, I'll see you soon to deal with this… Jedi problem."

Okay, these two aren't the most pleasant people to deal with today. At all. I consider not telling Benok that Slusk wants to see him, since Luxa has rather nicely left me to do that task. Rather than say anything to him, I just wave him over and point towards Slusk's door. That'll give him the idea, right?

I consider heading for my office, but I don't have a whole lot to do in there right now. I walk out of this room, and head back into the atrium area. The view out the window is the exact same as always, modules and spaceships. Around this time, there should be a rather large fuel shipment from Peragus, but I guess that's over now that the entirely facility has been destroyed.

Hopefully everyone on the station doesn't start freaking out. That's just what everyone needs.

Well, apparently I get to wait for Luxa to whatever it is she's going to be doing. If that's the case, I actually don't have much to be doing. Well, even if I think I'm going to find a way to get out of this, it sounds like the Exile is up to no good. I guess she isn't just the type to just sit around and wait for the Republic ship to show up, right?

Oh, the Republic ship. Isn't Carth in charge of that ship? The _Sojourn_, I was aboard while it was being constructed on Coruscant. Since I'm rather… technically challenged, I was mostly just there as a guard. Dull work, but I learned a lot from him. And a familiar face running the show was nice, even if it was Carth Onasi.

Needless to say, my fellow employees were considerably more pleasant than the company here. It's just so nice to deal with criminals, bounty hunters and thugs on a daily basis. Of course now, I don't have the high moral ground. I'm down here, standing in the mud with everyone else here. For almost two years I've tried to say that I'm above these people, but I'm not. For god's sake, I'm thinking about how I can get out of here. There's a term for that, Stephen. Coward. I don't turn down my pay checks, and I sure as hell know where a lot of that money comes from.

I really need to stop thinking about this. Compartmentalise.

At least I'm one step higher on a moral ladder than Benok. That's why Goto recruited me, I guess. I'm so glad the justification for my employment is that I'm not a psychopath or a money-loving crook. That's pretty uncommon out here.

I guess joining the Exchange, that's when things stating going south. I mean, I thought it was a way out after I got shafted once already. Look at where it's lead me. I've tried to make the best of it, but it just isn't the same. Damn you, Goto. If I'm not careful, I'm going to get myself killed because of that droid, too.

Maybe I shouldn't have accepted Goto's offer two years ago. I could have done otherwise. It could be that's where all of this went wrong. I don't know. Canderous once told me that looking to the past is useless – and it really is. What could have been … isn't.

I push my memories out of my mind, continuing my walk through the Residential Module. I've been thinking about that day quite a lot… What could have gone differently? It might have been two years, but I'm not sure this choice has been for the better….

Stephen, stop thinking!

I guess I better just sit down in my office, as much as I don't really want to be in here, it's better than going back to my cold, lifeless and empty home. Every once in a while I just get this feeling in there…

I pick up the third datapad that's sitting on my desk, and groan when I realise that I'm reading one of the weekly reports about what we're currently doing with Czerka Corporation. Apparently they're under a bit of scrutiny from the Republic at the moment. So we've happily picked up the slack and started running illegal shipments in and out of Citadel Station for them.

Czerka Corporation doesn't exactly give us all the details of what they're up to, but it looks like things aren't going too well for them without that information droid they wanted from the Ithorians. Goto claims that it's a very profitable venue we're exploring with Czerka, though as soon as word of the Jedi came through, Goto's priorities changed quite quickly.

But hey, whatever Goto commands is law around here.

Alright, enough of that. I place the datapad back on the desk, and make a move for the exit. If I'm just going to be stuck waiting for Luxa, while trying to come up with a rather clever excuse to get out of here, I think I better get a drink.

Maybe two.

Or more.

* * *

Thankfully, it's a short shuttle ride to the nearest Entertainment Module. The downside to that is it happens to be where the TSF keeps their offices, so I got to share a shuttle with plenty of those uptight, strapping individuals. At least Lieutenant Grenn wasn't there, he and I don't exactly see eye to eye on the best of days.

I can tell that a few of the TSF personnel are looking at me. Not really all that unusual of an experience, it's just another annoyance. If they're already worried about the Jedi running around out here, I'd think that the Exchange is under close scrutiny, including me.

As much as I rail on the Telos Security Force, they aren't entirely stupid. I mean, Bumani Exchange Corporation? We're so subtle… They know what we're up to and who we are. Just like they know that Czerka is out to destroy the Ithorians. But are they doing anything about it? This isn't Nar Shaddaa, but we're still practically in the open with what we're doing.

Goto has friends in high places, it would seem. Either that, or the Telosian government is more corrupt that anyone could possibly imagine. Would explain why Czerka can get away with murder.

I pass by a pair of heavily armed and armoured individuals, they're just sorting of strolling past. I don't recognise them personally, but they're Czerka mercenaries. For whatever reason, Czerka Corporation has been hiring quite a few mercenaries recently. Some of them are being deployed down to the surface of Telos, in the restoration zones.

Some people, like the Ithorians, go down to the surface quite a bit. In the quarantined zones, of course. If you go outside of there, the atmosphere is toxic, strong enough to corrode the hull of starships in a matter of hours. But I've only been to the surface once, Slusk wanted me to oversee a transaction with a Czerka employee.

But damn, the surface is something to see. Aside from the wild animals that the Ithorians have brought from Onderon and Dxun in an effort to repopulate the surface with flora and fauna.

"Welcome to the Entertainment Module 081 Cantina," the droid behind the bar greets, drawing me out of my thoughts, "How can I assist you?"

"One juma," I groan, reaching for the drink right after the droid finishes pouring the liquid into a glass. I take a sip, savouring the taste and leaving enough left to make sure the juma juice lasts longer than five seconds. Once I've got the glass in my hand, I move over to one of the tables.

The door opens behind me, but I don't bother looking in that direction. I change my mind a few moments later, when whoever came in has come right up behind me and takes a seat across from me. I look up from my drink, and groan audibly. What the hell are you doing here, Benok? I was going to save a bit more of my drink, but seeing Benok here makes me want to drink. To excess.

"I figured I'd find you down here," Benok taunts, his two minions quickly showing up to flank him. "Looks like I was right. How predictable. Maybe Goto should have picked a better agent."

"Maybe you should sod off," I snap, finishing my shot of juma. "What do you even want?"

Benok chuckles, though he's just screwing with me, isn't he? As always.

"I still can't believe Slusk keeps you around," the mercenary shakes his head.

"And I'm equally surprised that you haven't been shot yet," I raise an eyebrow. "Because you and your little friends are goddamn annoying."

Benok and his two thugs start laughing even harder. "If you ask me, you're the lucky one. I've read Slusk's reports on you, I wasn't impressed. At all. Must take a special kind of stupid to get stuck in a Republic prison, or get picked up by the TSF after a bar fight."

I glare at the human, placing a hand on my blaster pistol.

"I've got an eye on you and Luxa," Benok warns, standing back up and leaving the table. "Don't try anything."

"Fuck you, wanker," I reply, staying seated as Benok heads over to the bar. The other two just follow him, since they're mindless tools that serve no function other than to do whatever Benok says. I really don't like that guy.

I think it's fair to say I don't like anyone that I work with. Though, when your co-workers are Gamorreans, thugs, Slusk and Luxa… Yikes. Not pleasant to deal with them on a regular basis.

The only waiter in here walks past, so I gesture for another drink. These are pretty light, so another one isn't going to intoxicate me anything… When the second one comes I take a sip of it, hopefully I'm able to savour this one without anyone else coming over. Normally my trips to the cantina aren't quite so eventful. Since I've arrived on Citadel Station, my life has been pretty empty – now that I think about it. My life has either been working with the Exchange, listening to Goto threaten me, or coming here. It's a decent enough place.

One of the downsides of living in space station that's occupied solely by criminals like yourself, employees of various companies like Czerka, and the TSF. For the most part, it's boring. A lot like the station we're all housed in.

"Good, I don't have to find you after all," says Luxa, abruptly coming into my field of view. The woman just stands next to me; apparently she's too good to take a seat. "Slusk leaked information to Chodo Habat and the Ithorians. He fabricated information that I want to dispose of Slusk and take over operations here."

"That isn't a lie, though," I raise an eyebrow.

Luxa maintains a blank expression. "That isn't the important part, is it?"

"So, how do we know the Jedi is going to be here at all? There's a few other things that she could be doing for the Ithorians..."

"We're making it quite a bit more difficult for the Ithorians do work on this project," Luxa clarifies, leaving the details out, which is how I like to hear things like that. "And increasing our collaboration with Czerka. Habat isn't as stupid as he seems, he knows that our presence on this station is smaller than Czerka's. Sending the Jedi after us is logical."

"Yeah, great. Then we've got a Jedi going after us," I grumble, finishing the second drink.

"Let me talk to her. After I get rid of Benok and his goons, I'll persuade the Jedi that she needs to get rid of Slusk. She breaks into our offices, and that's when we show up. At worst, she kills Benok and a few of those pigs."

Yeah, at worst. You don't know what's going to happen here, Luxa. Your death is inevitable, so hitching on with this plan doesn't sound all that great. Agree for now, and I'll figure out how to get out of this. Maybe if I just don't back Luxa up…

"Well, alright," I sigh. "You seem awfully confident about this."

"That's because I have a backbone," Luxa snorts. "Or perhaps a sense of ambition."

I notice that there's a rather putrid smell in here right now. I look behind Luxa, and I quickly find the distinctive source. Gamorreans, two of them. I guess since Luxa is planning on talking to a Jedi, she must feel it necessary to have a set of bodyguards. Still, I do think we could have gotten some other mindless drones that have a better sense of hygiene.

My fellow Exchange member starts to walk towards the bar. "I've got to talk to a Jedi. Should be pretty obvious when she starts tearing up the 'Bumani Exchange Corporation.' I'll see you then."

So, this is the setup for when Luxa talks to Exile and gets her to go in and smash up the Exchange office and kill everyone inside? I could leave… Because I'm not following Luxa into the whole everyone being killed thing. Still, I might as well stay here and listen…

I swap seats, so that I don't have my back to the entrance any longer. Okay, just to make sure I don't look like an idiot, I pull out my personal datapad and pretend like I'm reading something. Just look normal!

When I actually take a glance at the pad, I realise that I still have it open to the message that Goto sent to me yesterday.

_There is data that you need to process_. _Contact immediately_.

Funny how a single Jedi causes all of this mess. Five years ago, when I first showed up into my new home Jedi were everywhere. Aren't the Sith basically evil Jedi? Between the two of them, there were enough Jedi to fill up a whole planet, and now they're all but destroyed.

Hell, this whole ordeal that I've been dealing with on Citadel Station during the past year and a half – it's all an indication of how fragile the Republic really is. We're not at war with anyone, not like we were with Malak and the Sith… But the Republic is even more fragile right now. The main difference is that a good chunk of people don't realise the Republic is on the verge of collapse. The media is too busy… Well, doing what it did back on Earth, I guess. I barely keep up with the news, but five years ago it was all about how we were finally beating the Sith. Now, it's all about elections, political scandals, and the occasional murder.

Your average person doesn't know what's going on.

Well then, I think I may have just found the Jedi Exile and her companions. She doesn't look like much, bit of a let-down after a full day of discussing how dangerous and important she is. Part of that is because she doesn't have a lightsaber attached to her hip, and is clad in simple tan robes. You can't even tell that she's a Jedi.

Two figures walk in behind her, each of whom I recognise. Why did I have to get involved in this stuff again? At least I'm getting out of it this time; I have the option do so instead of being blown up on Taris. Still, Kreia looks exactly like she did in the game – namely because I can't even see most of her face under her dark robes. Yeesh, like a woman Palpatine. On the Jedi's other side is a man in his thirties, brown hair and a dark jacket. Okay, Atton Rand. So, the Exile has certainly gotten her first two companions

Good, the Exile does need companions. Someone needs to stop those crazy Sith that are apparently still out there.

I discretely watch the three of them walk in, and walk towards to the bar – where Luxa and Benok are both standing. Oh, dear. This could be rich.

My favourite thug speaks up, still flanked by his usual partners in crime. "Ah, so you must be the Jedi everyone's been whispering about. You haven't gotten yourself into even more trouble with the TSF, have you?"

I have to strain just a bit to hear the conversation, especially the Exile's reply since she isn't as loud as Benok. "I'm not a Jedi."

"I guess you haven't heard the rumours, then. Whether or not you are Jedi, you're talk of the station. Everyone on Citadel Station is curious about you, even Czerka Corporation."

The Exile's voice is level, but carries a hint of… menace in it. "Is there something you want?"

Benok snorts, loudly. "Perhaps you don't know who I am, Jedi. You must not have been on Citadel Station long. I'm Benok, the man in charge of Loppak Slusk's protection. You do know who that is, don't you? These two fine gentlemen with me are Matu and Nahata. Slusk's finest men, besides myself of course."

"Oh, leave the woman alone, Benok," Luxa says, taking this chance to get things rolling with the Jedi. At least she knows how to talk to people instead of coming across as an arrogant sod. "I bet she'd come out on top if you got in a fight, so why don't you and your goon squad leave before you cause an incident."

"Now, Luxa. I meant no disrespect," Benok retorts, though I know he means otherwise. "You're probably Slusk's strongest woman."

"Slusk could easily replace you, Benok. Watch your words carefully."

"I'm not looking for any trouble, but she's right. You should consider leaving," the Jedi warns, her voice barely audible over the cantina band.

Benok exchanges a glance with his companions. "Trading jabs with Luxa isn't the entertainment I was looking for, Jedi. Come on, let's get the hell out of here."

I don't hear Luxa's voice again until Benok, Nahata and Matu march out of the cantina. Good riddance. "Sorry about that lot, they're not normally such a pain to deal with. I heard what happened at the docks, mind if we talk for a bit?"

For being a trained killer with enough ambition to casually plot murder, Luxa sounds oddly welcoming. It's off-putting, to say the least.

The Jedi doesn't seem to catch the bait quickly enough. "Perhaps, who are you?"

"I'm Luxa, I handle vice. The good stuff in life, spice, gambling, illegal shipments – for the local Exchange boss, Loppak Slusk. That's the guy Benok was talking about."

"You're with the Exchange?"

"I won't make a move on you, don't worry. The squid and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, you being one of them. It makes for an interesting workplace, to say the least."

Tell me about it.

"What does this have to do with me?" The Jedi Exile asks, closing some of the distance between herself and Luxa.

"I heard what you said to Benok. This Exchange bounty has nothing to do with you. My boss Slusk won't see that, he's too eager to please Goto. You seem like a very capable sort, though. Here's how we can fix this. Help me with Loppak Slusk, and I'll keep the Exchange off your back, and find that missing ship of yours."

She's good at what she does, that one. Lying being one of those things.

"What's your problem with Slusk?"

"Aside from him being the typical slimy Quarren? He works for Goto out of Nar Shaddaa, and all Goto sees are numbers, but he's ruthlessly efficient. Goto keeps Slusk around because the squid knows how to bring in credits, but he doesn't allow for breaks in the chain – even keeps an Exchange agent here to keep an eye on all of us. I can't go over Slusk's head, so I've got to take care of him, and you can help."

Earlier we discussed getting a hold of the Jedi, and I know this is part of the plan, but I wonder if Luxa is going to take this chance to get rid of Slusk, and get the Jedi. Sounds like her, alright. Goto is going to be pissed, even more so when the Jedi kills everyone.

"I'm not going to get involved a petty dispute with your boss," the Jedi says.

Luxa, though, puts on the pressure. "Until Slusk's out of the picture, he'll send people like Benok after you. And where do you think the _Ebon Hawk _is right now? It was originally an Exchange ship, years ago. We're just taking it back."

"Wait, hold on," Atton speaks up, "You're seriously going to claim that was originally _your_ ship?"

"That's right," Luxa coolly retorts. "It used to be in the ownership of a man named Davik Kang, the Exchange boss on Taris. How the ship escaped the destruction of Taris, and Davik along with it, I don't know."

Oh, I know! How the _Ebon Hawk_ escaped Taris for 500 points, please.

"How do we do this, then?" The Jedi asks, though I can tell she's not totally into Luxa's plan. "We can't just go in and remove your boss."

"Just go to the Exchange offices in Residential 82, most of the guards there are in my pocket, so they won't be much of a trouble. Once Slusk's gone, I'll clear up this bounty matter with Goto and get your ship back. Deal?"

Luxa outstretches a hand, and after a long moment, the Jedi finally takes it. "It's a deal."

"I'll see you there, sweetheart. Best of luck."

I try to bury myself back in my datapad, but I notice that Luxa nods knowingly in my direction. Yeah, I think she's serious about getting rid of Slusk. Deadly serious. Ha.

The Jedi and I both watch Luxa leave with her Gamorrean bodyguards. Sadly, the stench doesn't leave with them. I peek over my datapad, and it looks like the Exile is going for the droid bartender. Not sure why, but I guess it isn't my business, is it?

Still, she's going to be walking right into a trap. I figure that she's going to come out alright – even with Slusk, Benok and Luxa in there. But I'm sitting here, and it would just take a few words to ensure that the Exchange is going down. The men and women I've worked with for almost two years – they're going to be destroyed.

That's okay; I don't really like them all that much. I think that I can live with it. Sounds selfish, but I'm considerably more concerned about with how I'm going to avoid being killed along with everyone else. Sure, it wouldn't be that hard to get into a fight, be picked up by the TSF and spend the next eight hours in a holding cell until Grenn realises that he can't hold me in there any longer…

Goto would be pretty pissed off, I can guarantee it. As furious as a droid pretending to be a human could be. As Luxa pointed out, he's ruthless.

What am I supposed to do?

I take a step towards the bar, gritting my teeth. I really hate my life sometimes. And the frequency of that hatred seems to have increased quite a bit since Goto recruited me. Not to say there weren't good moments, but still…

"It's a trap," I blurt out, holding back a snicker when I realise what I've just said. "Luxa doesn't have your ship; she's trying to ship you off to Goto."

"Excuse me?" The Jedi, Liviana, raises an eyebrow, but at least she gets that I'm talking to her. Good thing, since I just blurted out an Admiral Ackbar quote in her direction.

I honestly can't believe I'm doing this. I swore that I wouldn't. Wasn't once enough?

"My name's Stephen, Stephen *****," I introduce myself, reaching out to shake hands with the Jedi.

I think back to Darius, and where we met five years ago. And now things seem to have come full circle.

Well, this is going to be interesting, isn't it?

* * *

**Review, please!**


	3. Chapter 3: Getting Started Again

Chapter 03: Getting Started Again

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."

~Heraclitus

**Author's Note: I say this a lot, but I'm sorry about the wait. I started this two weeks ago and a number of family things came about. A wedding, family moving. Big stuff. So yeah, sorry about that. **

**Also, I just noticed you can add covers to stories? Whoa. Anyone got an artsy talents they want to share? I'd hate to have to draw stick people.**

* * *

It really comes down to three options, doesn't it?

The first being that I stick with the idiotic Exchange, which considering I've been standing here listening to the events of the second KotOR game… Yeah, I think I know how that's going to turn out. Luxa and Slusk are going to play the usual stupid card, and that's going to get them all killed. I honestly can't say that I'm terribly upset with that idea or possibility. What bothers me is the bit about how I would probably be murdered as well. I can't say I really enjoy that possibility.

The second option is that I get myself out of here, maybe get into a bar fight or something. It would be a good way to rather conveniently find myself in a jail cell for the next few hours. But what happens then, when the Exchange presence is crushed on that station? I'll catch quite a bit of flak from Goto, I'll probably be reassigned to another Exchange operation. Likely Nar Shaddaa, if Goto isn't in a good mood. Being a droid running the Exchange, I don't really know if he ever has a good mood.

I'm bloody sick of Goto having power over me like that…. What a bastard.

I said that I wouldn't get involved, didn't I? But this… Right here, right now. It's my chance to not only get free of this Exchange mess I've gotten myself involved with – but there's even more things I could do with this chance. If we're assuming that the events of this game are going to play out, the Exile is going to Nar Shaddaa and seriously fuck up Goto.

Now, that sounds pretty awesome.

And there's even more out there. I mean, Canderous should be joining the crew. Well, now he's Mandalore. But still… I haven't seen him in years, especially not since the original crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ were being investigated by the sodding Jedi.

I sigh, now that I've realised this is the best option… Great, so much for not getting involved. But I'm going to have a play my card carefully. Don't talk too much about my past, and not the incident of course. Just have to get with this new party, and act natural.

Act natural, not like an idiot. That might be difficult sometimes, but I can manage. Uh, hopefully.

Big problem, though. It's old, manipulative, and named Kreia. Namely, she can read minds.

So, I've got to think a certain way too. Right…? I'm going to have to roll with it, I guess. It's better than sticking with my other two options. Because those sound like shit on a stick. All right, then, looks like it's finally time to resign and move against Goto and the Exchange. Might be the most interesting way I've ever quit a job. But hey, when it's time to move on, it's just time to move on.

"Don't tell us you're with the Exchange too? How many of you guys are on this station anyway?" Atton's voice asks, reminding me that I have just started a conversation with these people here. "You don't exactly seem like Exchange material."

Alright, Stephen. Play your cards carefully…

"You heard Luxa, she wants nothing more than to take Slusk's job around here," I explain, trying to keep a level tone. "That's a common thing around here. Goto doesn't like people killing their superiors. I'm the bloke that Goto put here to make sure everything runs smoothly, and Luxa doesn't get ambitious."

"It doesn't seem like you're doing your job very well. Unless you think we're going to get rid of Luxa for you in some sort of triple cross scheme."

Oh, Atton. That's not a bad idea, now that you say it. Too bad Slusk is legendarily thick, and he wouldn't think of that.

I snort, though, and turn to face the exiled Jedi. "I'm not stupid, a former Jedi is going to tear through everyone in the Exchange office. I'm not an idiot, or quite as criminal-minded as the Luxa, Benok and the rest of them. That's why Goto figured I'd be a good agent to keep everyone else in line."

Thankfully, Atton doesn't have anything else to say at the moment, it seems. Neither does Kreia. Instead, it's the Jedi Exile that speaks up. "Luxa was lying about our ship, then. She just wants us to get rid of Slusk."

"She's been trying to get rid of him forever," I shake my head. "I know her, she'll kill off Slusk, and then try and ship you off to Goto. Whether or not you're a Jedi, there's a large bounty on your head. We were all given orders to try and bring you back to him, alive if possible."

"Why are you telling me this, then?"

I bite my lip. "If I cut to the chase, I want to join you against Luxa and Slusk. I've had enough of both of them, and Goto, too. I've got better things to do than serve as a lapdog for Goto or his goons."

This scheme had better work…

"He's lying," Atton snaps, turning to face Liviana. "You can't trust anyone from the Exchange, they'll shove a knife in your back the instant you turn around."

"I know you're working for the Ithorians, trying to get rid of Slusk and the Exchange here on Citadel," I say. "I've got just as much reason for wanting the Exchange taken care of here as you do. And there's going to be plenty of goons in there. Benok and his lot. And some of those Gamorreans."

I can barely hear an old woman's voice, "This one could be a temporary asset, but we should tread carefully."

"Yeah, if by 'treading lightly,' you mean walking through an active minefield," Atton moans. "I'm telling you, this can't go well."

"Thanks," I deadpan, raising an eyebrow. "I'm on your side, and once we go in there against Slusk and Luxa, they're going to be gunning for me, too. And I don't have a bounty on my head, mind you."

"How will Goto react when he finds out you're not working for him anymore?" Liviana asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't imagine an Exchange boss like that isn't going to be pleased with the situation here in a few hours."

Yeah, no kidding. "He'll probably put up a small little bounty for my demise. It won't be anywhere near the size of the bounty posted for live Jedi, but Goto doesn't react well to agents that turn against the Exchange. Hell, it's even an offence to refuse the offer to join the Exchange."

"Lovely bunch," Liviana frowns. "How did you manage to get involved with Goto then? It sounds like you don't really approve of them or their methods."

Oh, damn. "That's a long story, I don't think I really want to get into a whole lot of details. Basically, I got cornered into joining, and Goto figured he could use me to ensure that everyone else behaved correctly, instead of having his operations here turn into a bloodbath."

"You wouldn't know why Goto has a bounty on Jedi then, would you?"

"Not a clue," I lie. Oh god, mind-reading Kreia is right over there… This is really going to freak me out for a long time. How do I know if she's doing it or not? Is she always doing it? Not good… "That's something you would have to ask Goto, I guess. There's so few Jedi, maybe he wants one as a pet, I don't know. It might be important, given how many credits he's offering."

Needless to say, not a whole lot of people know how much that bounty is exactly. I'm not entirely sure, either. Millions, I think.

"If you think Luxa can just wave her hand and dismiss the bounty, though…" I whistle. "It doesn't work like that."

"Luxa made her opinion clear of her boss. What do you think of those two?" Atton says, leaning against the bar.

I just shrug. "Slusk is a mob boss, nothing out of the ordinary, aside from his personality trait as a bit of a scumbag. Luxa said he brings in the credits, that's a pretty accurate description of him. He just takes all the credit for everything we do here on Citadel station. Luxa, though. She's just mad that she isn't in Slusk's position. Bitch nearly poisoned me once."

Makes for a good work story, though, I've got to say. "Benok and his little minions, they might be the most irritating out of the lot. The ones you met earlier," I continue, "They don't have much in the way of mental prowess, neither do the Gamorreans."

"They won't be much of a problem," Liviana dismisses with a wave of her hand. "The hardest part is going to be getting in."

"I'll get you access," I quickly add. "Won't be difficult."

"Good. If your little Zeltron was lying, what the hell happened to our ship?"

"You could ask Slusk if you're seeing him anyway," I suggest, smirking.

"We've got things to take care of before we head to the Residential Module," Liviana informs me, staring right at me. I try and keep my face blank, look honest, all that jazz. "We'll be at the Exchange offices in two hours. If you're planning on helping us, be there before we break in. If you think you can get the better of us… You're going to find yourself in a similar position as Luxa and Slusk. We clear?"

Damn. Looks like we've got ourselves a hard-ass.

"Perfectly," I nod, not wanting to get on the bad side of a Jedi, particularly not one that has Kreia on her side. "I'll see you there."

Well, this is just going to be fantastic. So much for keeping my nose out of this adventure.

I've got a bit of drink left, so I nod my farewell before heading back to my table where I was previously sitting, eavesdropping on Luxa and Benok. Those two are a pain in the ass. Might be good to finally get rid of them…

Oh, I've been working with the Exchange for too long, haven't I? Even when I was working with the military, or with Revan during that quest for the Star Forge – I never thought it would be great to exterminate other people. Well, maybe Malak or a few of the Sith. But that's because they were damn evil and I was being attacked by Sith on a regular basis.

But I wouldn't mind putting a round through Benok's head, that lousy git. Murder, it isn't something I would have thought myself possible of doing years ago. Maybe I can't do it now, but the thought is crossing my mind. And I'd have to say it isn't a bad one when it's Benok.

Luxa, we'll have to see, I guess. And Slusk, but he does piss me off.

Not as much as Goto does, though. Constantly barking orders and making my life much more miserable that it is supposed to be. And now, I'm going to have him after me. That's just fucking fantastic, isn't it?

At least if everything goes right, and I get my place aboard the _Ebon Hawk_, we should be really messing Goto up on Nar Shaddaa…

I finish up my drink, and I check to make sure I've got everything I need… Blaster, datapad. If I really am doing this, I need to get a few things from my little apartment. Once we leave the station, it's over with. No more Citadel Station, I think. I can't say that I am going to miss Citadel Station, not the TSF and not the stupid grey metal modules that everyone and everything is stuck in, zooming over the ravaged planet.

Telos, that's something of a lost cause. Fuck, who am I kidding? With Peragus destroyed, this place is going to run out of fuel very soon. And when that happens… This place is screwed beyond belief. Might as well drop straight out of orbit.

"Well, I'm not surprised to find you in here."

Speaking of a lost cause, I think I found the king of uselessness. I look back up to see Lieutenant Dol Grenn of the TSF staring at me, only a foot or two away from my little table. He's dressed in his usual yellow officer's outfit, which means that he looks just as dumb as he usually does.

Maybe it's just because of my job, but knowing what all goes on in this station makes the TSF seem pretty useless. Czerka and the Exchange get away with just about everything. Just look at Czerka, they've hired enough mercenaries to form a small army. They probably outnumber the TSF at this rate.

"Don't tell me I broke one of your laws," I taunt, knowing full well that I haven't. That being said, there are some stupid laws around here, and I sure can't be bothered to memorise them all.

Grenn frowns. "I might not have the chance yet, but I know you, Luxa and Slusk have your eyes on the Jedi."

"What would give you that impression?" I say, my voice injected with plenty of sarcasm – the usual when talking to anyone from the TSF. "It wouldn't be the massive bounty posted on Jedi, would it?"

"Or it could be the assassin the Exchange sent into the TSF holding offices yesterday," the lieutenant suggests, referring to an event that I haven't genuinely heard about. Now, I have heard about that thanks to the whole video game thing. It does give me an edge, though. It hasn't been all that useful for the past five years, though. After the destruction of the Star Forge, my little precognition was useless.

It almost feels good to have that ability back. Double-edged sword, I do remember that. I mean, I got punched by Mission really hard on Manaan… And that blasted, evil assassin droid got me discovered in front of everyone…Seriously, what an asshole. I think he comes back for this second game, doesn't he?

I've gotten quite a bit better at lying, though. After all, a series of incidents led me to Taris. A series of incidents.

More like one particular incident caused by a manipulative bitch. Funny how I've wound up here, isn't it?

Speaking of lying, I've got to keep up the usual charade with this bloke. "What are you talking about? It isn't like I sent Benok in to go after the Jedi. I'd never send anyone that stupid out to complete a task."

"The name Batu Rem doesn't mean anything to you?" I don't verbally answer, I just shake my head. "An assassin broke in using that identity, sounds like he came from Nar Shaddaa."

"You're accusing me because he came from Nar Shaddaa? The Exchange doesn't control the planet."

"The Hutts might, but your boss, Goto, he runs most of his operations on the planet. Even if the fake Batu Rem isn't one of yours, I know you're going to try and make a move. And I wouldn't be surprised if your lot is responsible for the Jedi's ship vanishing straight out of its hangar."

"Pretty neat trick," I smirk, even though I know Atris is responsible. One of the few remaining Jedi, kind of a bitch, living with her little handmaidens in the polar icecaps on the surface… "As always, I take it you have no leads into that, right?"

"We might be pursuing a few…"

Which means that they aren't, I take it.

"Don't tell me you came down here just to ask me about your own assassin problem?" I ask, not entirely sure why Grenn is here right now. Yeah, I've definitely have seen him before for petty little things the Exchange does, but generally he pops into the Bumani Exchange office and talks to me or Luxa at the front desk in the office. Just like right now, he never has evidence. Sometimes he sends his little goons, but it's always amusing.

Either the TSF is more incompetent than any other organisation ever, or Goto has friends in high places. Not sure which. I'm not sure I want to know either. I already know way more than I want to about organised crime. I was happy with knowing about mobs and the _Godfather_ films. Actual criminal rings are considerably more… interesting.

"I hear there's a bit of a shakeup with your group. Sounds like the Zeltron is getting a bit ambitious."

"How the hell do you know about that?" I blink, genuinely surprised and taken off guard. I mean, for hell's sake, Luxa wasn't exactly quiet when talking to Liviana, Atton and Kreia – but that was less than fifteen minutes ago. Here I am bashing on the TSF, apparently all they do is spy on everyone!

"The… Bumani Exchange Corporation has been putting quite a bit of pressure on the Ithorian's restoration efforts," Grenn points out. "It's almost like you want the Ithorians to push their new ally in that direction. Logical guess that Luxa is up to her usual scheming."

I've got to admit, Grenn does know a fair amount about that. That whole incident about Luxa sending me a bottle of poisoned Tunisian Ale – the Telos Security Force actually intercepted it and told me what they had found. Amusing, actually, looking back on it. Especially since Luxa just missed that Goto sent me an implant to ward off most ingested toxins. Apparently it's a pretty common thing to run into as an Exchange agent. I just thought it was a joke.

Getting the stupid implant slot was a pain in the ass. Not the first surgery I've had, either. Had to get my eyes fixed up before basic training with the Republic. Couldn't see more than a foot in front of me without my contacts… And I didn't bring any extras with me. Had to use the same pair during the whole Taris to Star Forge trip, that got really old.

Needless to say, Grenn was pretty surprised when I drank it anyway. Tasted like shit, and gave me awful stomach cramps. Not exactly the result Luxa wanted, I think. Worth it for the look on Grenn's face.

"If you've been spying on the Bumani Exchange Corp, you know Luxa is always like that," I stare blankly at the TSF officer. "Besides, our corporate policy does not encourage promotions through extortion."

"Right, and the Bumani moniker isn't just a made up term to get business here on Citadel," Dol Grenn retorts. "I'm keeping an eye on you, and the rest of your people. Don't try anything."

"If I do, you'll be the last to know," I finish, walking out of cantina, quickly losing out on all the noise. I've spent quite a bit of time there the past eighteen months, partially because it's almost haunting how empty and quiet it can feel wandering the halls of the station.

I pass by the shuttle I usually take to get back to the residential sections on the Citadel, they're mostly for convenience. Turns a ten to fifteen walk into a two minute, cheap, shuttle ride… But I've got some time to kill, and normally the shuttle trips are usually shared with loud-mouthed Czerka employees or their mercenaries. They're the only ones making any noise in this station.

I might recognise a few of those guys, but I don't think I actually know anyone in Czerka Corp. Sure, I've met a few for business… Hell, now that I say that – Luxa and I have that twisted work relationship, Slusk pisses me off… So does Benok, damn. But I don't really know a whole lot of people here on this station.

I won't miss this place, or the people here. Even if that means killing most of my fellow co-workers.

Now, the good question is whether or not I'm going to enjoy the places we visit. Hopefully nowhere with as many bugs as Kashyyyk or as hot as Tatooine. Nar Shaddaa is going to suck ass, Dxun… Big animals, if I remember correctly. Dantooine again. And Korriban too. Though, I guess I've been seeing a bit of that during my recent dreams.

Though, maybe I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. I don't know if I'm really going anywhere else with the Jedi Exile. If this doesn't work out, though – and I do go against Slusk and the rest of the Exchange, I'm going to have to run. Somewhere. At least if this works, I can get some payback on Goto. And run into Canderous again.

Finally, a chance to get out of this job and shitty situation. I don't belong here; this is all because of the bloody Jedi. Things weren't going that badly until they had to screw things up, right? I had finally gotten a grasp on this reality.

Now? Now I'm trying to weasel my way out of working with the Exchange. I don't know where Mission is. Hell, I don't even know where most of my old friends are. Carth is probably on the Republic ship that's supposed to be coming to pick up the Exile. Bastila, I don't really give a fuck. She told the Jedi about my past, I think, and that's what screwed things up.

Canderous, hopefully I'll see him again. T3 and HK are aboard the _Ebon Hawk_, Jolee… No idea, same with Zaalbar.

And Mission. Damn, I don't know where she went off to. I was going to write, and I never finished the message. When you realise that you have put it off for several months, it just gets worse and worse. You rewrite the letter to apologise the time gap – which just gets so large until you can't send the letter.

Assuming she has the same address.

Stupid, stupid me, right? It's my fault, but some days – I can't help wondering if I should have tried to find her. Something, anything I could have done. It's been two years now, and I screwed one of the few good things that happened to me. I am sure she's moved on. Could I really blame her?

I loudly sigh, passing through one of Citadel Station's grey metal modules. I swear, if these things weren't numbered, I would not be able to find my way home. Bunch of metal boxes, all bound together. That's all this place really is. Just with a few fake looking plants lining the middle of this module. Trees only a few feet high, not terribly impressive.

I've got to stop thinking about Mission, it isn't good for my health. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm growing grey hair and close to having a heart attack. I always do this, I beat myself up over this. But have I done anything about it? Nope, I just worked and got drunk in the cantina.

Juma juice makes for a good way to forget about things like that. Though, the downside is that the hangover can be a real bastard.

I've gone down in the world. I guess I've pushed things like Mission aside, ran away from my problems. What have I even accomplished recently? I haven't thought about any of this until just recently… I almost feel ashamed of myself.

Almost.

No, I take that back. I am ashamed of myself. And it makes me sick.

I walk into my apartment area, and go straight for my door. One that's open, I step inside. Probably for the last time. Seems like a recurring case, I won't be missing this place. Thankfully, there aren't a lot of things in here that I have to worry about taking with me. Back on Earth, I had plenty of possessions. After the incident, I learned to travel light. I guess I've stuck with it.

Alright, I've got all my combat gear. Blaster, armour, stealth equipment. And that little vibroblade that's more like a knife. I pull the picture of Mission and I out of the frame, fold it in half and toss it in my pocket along with my datapad. I really don't believe I've got anything else in here. I check in the closet, every corner… Nothing there. I check under the bed, last possible place.

Huh, there's something. I grab, it, and once it's in the light, I realise that it's a small bottle. I don't even know what it is. It's … green. No expiration date. I'm pretty surprised that I haven't found this before, and I'm curious how long it's been down there. I might have fallen asleep with it, and lost it afterwards.

I pop it open. If anything, it might soothe some nerves. It's not every day that someone goes into their boss' office with murder on their mind, and plans to actually act on it for once.

Something catches my eye in, though. The mirror, and the sight of myself.

"Selena…" I mutter, my thoughts wondering back to Taris, where I got involved in the first KotOR game's events. Same thing happening here, and while I originally thought it was just an accident, I was just some helpless little pawn in a cold war between dimensions. Aside from that, I haven't the faintest clue why I ended up here. I picked up the pieces of my live, and now it seems to be happening again.

No sight of her, though.

"Selena!" I shout in frustration, though I'm not even sure that's going to get her attention. Still not here, so I kick my desk. The only result seems to be that now my foot hurts. If Selena is behind this crap, she isn't showing up.

This is a damn shitty coincidence, isn't it?

I chuck the bottle straight at the wall, and watch the liquid slowly drip down the mirror as make my way towards the door.

Alright, then. Let's do this.

Ugh, I hate that phrase.

* * *

I should have gotten an exact time of when to meet up with the Jedi. Because I'm pretty sure they're late. Maybe I'm just getting worked up, but I feel like I've been standing outside the Exchange offices for the better part of an hour. I dismissed the Rodian bloke we've got guarding the door. He didn't put up any resistance. Surprisingly, I found someone who actually follows the chain of command around here. Seriously, this might be a first. Well, unless you count how all of us, even Luxa, aren't stupid enough to double cross Goto.

"Good, you're here. We're going to make this quick, get rid of that slimy git once and for all."

Ah, speak of the devil, there would be Luxa. I turn to face the alarmingly pink alien. I've got to at least play along until the Jedi shows up. Otherwise, it's too early to fight Luxa and Slusk. "Just don't get too ambitious, Luxa. If I don't handle this right on my end, Goto is going to be all over you for this… insurrection."

"Maybe if he didn't spend all day hiding, he would know that I could run this operation three times more efficiently than the squid."

"And maybe I should point out that you're talking about my job. Goto's eyes and ears, remember?"

"More like a babysitting job," Luxa snorts. "Just do your part, and you and I could split that bounty Goto's got on the Jedi."

"You plan on capturing her after she gets rid of Slusk?" I frown. Damn, she's stupid. She might be good, very good, but a Jedi is something else. Even without a lights**a**ber, they're a force to be reckoned with. Bastila really tore those Vulkars a new one, and she didn't have her lightsaber in that instance. And Darius was one of the best fighters I've ever seen, back on Taris. Not a Jedi quite yet. That's a special case, though.

"Of course. Claims she isn't a Jedi, should make this an easy load of credits. Benok won't be pleased about being left out, but I wouldn't mind getting rid of him."

"I dunno," I reply, "Seems awfully risky…"

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Luxa asks. "I'm going through with this, and you're either going along. Or you're with Slusk."

"When you put it that way," I grumble. Why won't she just go inside already? I'm supposed to be waiting for the Jedi out here…

Thankfully, Luxa seems to be doing just that. "Don't wait too long, sweetheart. Things are going to get interesting real soon."

No shit, woman.

I watch Luxa walk through the door to the Exchange offices… Alright, good. Don't want her hanging out right behind me. That would make this whole thing more complicated.

A few seconds pass, and I start to resume pacing. I hate waiting, and I probably look ridiculous, walking in circles. Thankfully, there aren't a whole lot of people out here, it looks like. An Ithorian, thankfully he or she is going off in the other direction. They look a bit odd, like crushed slugs. And whenever they talk, it's always about nature and the environment. They're freaking alien hippies.

And hippies don't like criminals. Neither do the police, good thing there aren't any of those around. That would be the day, if they stormed in during this little triple cross going on.

Aside from a few citizens walking along, minding their own business, I don't really see anyone else out here. Three of them sort of came out of an apartment complex, one wearing a long hooded robe… Looks like I don't have to wait anymore, after all.

"They're inside," I gesture at the door as soon as the three of them are within earshot. "Luxa, Slusk, Benok, the lot."

The Exile, Liviana steps up to me and looks right at me for a second – a shiver runs down my spine. Honestly, I feel like my soul is being laid bare for examination. It wouldn't be that great of something to see, Liviana. "We get in, take care of Luxa and Slusk. That's it."

Much to my irritation, Atton speaks first, and he blatantly ignores me and instead. "So, we're really doing it, huh? Joining up with the Exchange. You sure this is the right way to find our ship?"

Liviana seems to just ignore him, pushing her dark red hair to the side. Unlike the last time we met, I notice that she's armed. With a rather sharp, deadly looking vibroblade. It isn't a single bladed weapon, it's a sword version of the double bladed lightsaber. Darth Maul style. I haven't seen any of those outside of the game.

I almost smirk, her weapon is intimidating but other than that she's basically wearing a tan tunic. At least Atton has a decent looking jacket, and two blaster pistols by the look at it. Kreia… I don't know. She kind of creeps me out, I can't see her eyes which is more unsettling than I thought it would be.

"We're ready," Liviana nods.

I tap the bottom button on the blue computer screen next to the door. I key in the password, and wait for the door to open.

No turning back now.

I nod to the party, stepping through the doorway. "I'm right with you."

Once I'm through, I turn the corner into the cramped room with the reception desk. Vula, wearing blue today, seems to be at her regular post. I catch her eyes drift towards my combat gear, which I haven't donned in quite a while. As the rest of the group files in, she keeps her composure – but I can tell she's expecting this.

But slightly intimidated by how much either how much firepower is in this room, or that there's a Jedi standing in here. Ex-Jedi, whatever.

"I've bringing a few guests today, Vula," I say, trying to act as normal as possible. I'd like to avoid her sending people out to kill us. That would remove my favourite element. Surprise. Not that I really know any other element. I guess there's hydrogen and gold… "They're recruits. Bringing them in for a background check."

Hiring people for the Exchange, good cover to get in. Just like Davik did to us before we got off Taris. I've never actually recruited anyone here, hired a few mercenaries, but that's not the same thing.

Hey, it's like poetry, it rhymes.

Vula doesn't say anything to me…. Oh, okay. I hand over my identification chip to the receptionist, and quietly wait for her to scan it. Once the beep hits my ears, the door should be opening any minute now. Wait for it, everything is going to work out.

After what seems like an eternity, the door opens to the atrium. Oh, thank the Force. I was starting to get worried there for just a moment.

"Thank you, Vula," I sigh, stepping into the atrium. It looks normal in here. No Gamorreans roaming around, but I guess nobody wants to see those. I hope they're not with Benok and his two lackeys. The Jedi might be able to deal with him easily, but I haven't been in a straight up fight in probably… five years, the Star Forge. Everything else either isn't worth mentioning, like a bar fight, or just more training.

"Looks like even the Exchange needs to decorate their offices to look like a dentist's waiting area," Atton snorts. "Where you your goons, if not here?"

"They're just around the corner," I quietly mutter, not wanting anyone around that said area to hear. Both Liviana and Kreia are pretty quiet at the moment, the later of the pair being more than a little creepy and unsettling. I glance backwards to see what she's up to. Oh, she's looking right at me from underneath that hood. Agh!

I quickly go back to leading the party, rounding the corner and passing by the two small office spaces, each closed up and difficult to see in with tinted glass. The first, the one that we just all passed was Luxa's. And this one was mine, had a damn holographic communications suite to talk to Goto whenever I needed to. Which was whenever Goto wanted anything done right away.

Leaving my office behind, I walk right into the next waiting area, where there are a few tables and chairs set up. Normally it's used for eating, but it seems to me that Benok must have found it to be a great place to 'ambush' us. Along with those two thugs he keeps around. And it even seems that he managed to get the four Gamorreans that work for Slusk out here.

Good job, Benok. You're dumb enough to think strength in numbers means something. I'll confess that it's got me a bit worried, but not enough to go back on my plans. Hell no, Benok, you're going down, mother fucker.

I pull out my blaster, and flip the safety off. Ready.

"Look who the Jedi brought with her," Benok laughs to his idiot lackeys. "Good job, but we'll take it from here."

"I have better things to do than entertain that notion," Liviana coldly retorts, "You can either step aside or not. One of those choices is not going to be very much fun for you."

The human doesn't take her seriously, of course. "You're not smart for a Jedi if you think Goto is just going to let you walk out of here. Let's get her, boys."

Yeah, some ambush.

"Sorry Benok, this is the end for you," Liviana taunts, the faintest hint of a smirk forming on her face.

The talking is over, then. I make a quick mental note about my opponents; Benok looks like he's armed with his usual gold blaster. Matu, the Rodian, blades whereas the Aqualish has two pistols – Nahata. Just like every other Gamorrean I've ever seen, this group of four looks like they're using oversized axes.

The closest pig monster cries out and rushes us, the idiot. I take aim and fire at him, but my blaster shot seems to be the second one to the target. I realise that Atton must've gotten there first.

"Easy," the man comments from beside me.

Dead Gamorreans really do stink, no matter how fast the air is processed in here.

I slowly walk to the right, and move to fire at the next enemy, another one of the Gamorreans. And that one is getting quite a bit closer. Crap, I think I might be in range of that axe! I change my priorities around to get the hell out of that thing's way. I try my best to roll to the side, which only half works.

Half works meaning that I dropped my gun and nearly fall right on my bum. I push myself back up, grabbing my blaster pistol off the ground. Thankfully, I got some distance between me and the Gamorrean. And in the brief time that I've had since this fight broke out, the fighting has really taken a turn towards the chaotic side.

Liviana, from what little I've seen, prefers melee combat with that double-bladed weapon of hers. The way she moves, it's a bit more fluid than other melee combat I've seen. Including Matu, who looks more like a madman than a sensible alien. I can't see where Atton or Benok are in this mess, and Kreia… Lurking, by the look of things.

Oh, snap! There's one of the Gamorreans right on top of me, the only way I could freaking tell was because of the smell. The monster lurches forward, but I grab my weapon and shoot it right at the thing's ugly head.

Once the shot hits, the Gamorrean practically screams, but that's my chance to finish this. A few shots through the Gamorrean's thick hide finish it once and for all, with this one anyway.

I move onto the next bloke, making sure I've got adequate ammunition. Yep, plenty for the moment. Thank goodness for more efficient power cells. Everyone else nearby seems pretty busy, even Kreia – contrary to my knowledge, she's actually using a purple lightsaber. Hey, what the hell happened to the whole 'no lightsabers until hallway through the game?'

In fact, the only one that doesn't seem to be in the thick of things is Benok. He's across the room, shooting at Atton. I said I was getting rid of Benok, so here we go. I hit the activation sequence for my personal stealth system.

Jesus Christ on rollerblades, that's a nauseating feeling that I'm not exactly used to experiencing. The sound dampening technology pops my ears and creates the unsettling effect that I can no longer hear my footsteps. Or my own breath. As strange as this is, I do remember how to move correctly without having the stealth field fail on me.

More or less.

I narrowly avoid the last Gamorrean, Matu and Liviana's little duel going on in the middle of the room. Only a few feet…

Perfect, I'm now staring at Benok's back, right in front of me. When I motion to grab my blaster, the sound dampening cuts out, along with the rest of the stealth field. And naturally, whenever that happens, the sound of the cloak cutting out is pretty loud.

And Benok had to have heard that. I can tell he's starting to turn around.

I fall back on instinct, and drop my blaster, reaching around Benok's neck with my arm. Classic hold.

Now that he's in a bit more of a manageable position, I take a lungful of air. An attempt to slow my heart's rapid beating. The battle in this room is almost wrapped up, just Matu and Benok – who starts to squirm and try and force his way out of my grip. He's quite a bit more muscular than I am… Shit, he could get free and he's still got easy access to a weapon. I don't.

My left arm brushes against the combat knife I keep on my waist. Alright, so I do have some sort of weapon. I quickly brandish it, pushing it against Benok's neck. The message has to be clear, even as much of an asshole as he is.

He nearly throws me off, instead. And I made a quick, simple decision.

Once I've got a semblance of control, my left hand moves from one side of Benok's neck to the other, the blade meeting flesh the whole way.

I quickly release the corpse, and what I've just done hits me.

Well, then.

There aren't any of the usual sounds of battle out here. Just laboured breathing, probably my own, and the normal noise produced by the air filters on the space station. Sort of like an aeroplane, you tend to get used to it. But right now, it's loud as all hell.

An old woman's voice breaks the silence. Kreia. For the first time. "Are psychotic urges your main driving force in life?"

I glance at Benok's bloody body. "I didn't have much of a choice."

Kreia stares at me for a few more seconds from underneath her robe. I feel like the hairs on my neck are standing on end, but once she looks away, it stops.

"Just use a blaster next time," Atton snorts. "It's a lot less messy."

"I'm not speaking to you," Kreia snaps.

"We're moving on," Liviana cuts in, stepping between all of us. I push my knife into its casing as the Jedi Exile makes a move for the door deeper into the Exchange's headquarters here on Citadel Station.

The next area is smaller still, just a waiting area between the room we were just in and Slusk's office. It's empty in here, normally there's a Gamorrean here to keep unwanted persons out of here. But I guess we already got rid of them.

Hard to forget really, given the horrible smell that's working its way into my nostrils at the moment. Gamorreans naturally smell about as awful as you could possibly imagine, that's why there are some amazing air fresheners in everyone's offices. But Gamorreans that have been recently been cut up or shot with energy weapons? Even worse.

The final room before Slusk's office has a door to our left. There's a large control panel to the right of the door, so the Quarren can yell at you and see you at the same time. Kreia, Atton and I wait while Liviana hits the only button on the damn thing.

"_You're alive_?"Slusk's alien voice asks through the panel. "_And you even brought the runt with you. Benok must have been too slow, worthless human._"

* * *

It only took a few seconds for Atton to get the door open. Either he's pretty good at getting into secure places, or Slusk hasn't gotten the memo about upgrading his door security recently. Since he's such a paranoid squid, we'll go with Atton being pretty good at his job.

I follow everyone else inside Slusk's office, where I was just yesterday. Listening to a briefing about the Exile. Things have made a quick turnaround here, haven't they?

Liviana and Kreia move forward and to the left side of the room, while I kind of hover behind Atton on the right. Slusk is just standing there behind his desk, with a small turret on either side of him.

At least we outnumber him?

"_Jeedai,_" Slusk sneers. His emotions are tricky to read thanks to his alien voice, but I recognise his body language and intonations right now, and he's smug. To say the least. "_No wonder your kind are near extinct, you're as stupid as every other human. I suggest you surrender before Stephen and I send you to Goto in a body bag._"

"I'm not here for that," I shake my head. Here we go, whatever I say here is going to wind up in Goto's hands. I take a look right at the security camera by the ceiling, "You can consider this my resignation."

"_Very funny. What do you want_?"

"You're going to stop all of your Exchange operations on the Citadel," Liviana coldly informs Slusk. "Namely, you're done putting pressure on the Ithorians and supplying Czerka Corporation."

"_You came here for that? I can't stop those operations, those are Goto's domain._"

"Then it's quite simple. I want you. Dead."

It takes a few seconds for that one work its way through Slusk's dull mind. "_There has to be something you want, Jeedai. A new ship? A job? I can be a powerful ally._"

"You, dead," Liviana repeats.

"The squid started begging for his life?" Luxa's voice chuckles from behind all of us. I whirl around, and sure enough, there she is. Dressed in a skimpy outfit, holding a blaster. Unlike normal, she's donned a combat visor with fancy holographic displays. And just to top off this lovely picture of Luxa, she's got the last two Gamorreans guarding her.

"_Ah,_" Slusk groans. "_So, you and Luxa are trying to run things now, are you?_"

"That's the plan," Luxa smirks, raising her blaster in the direction of Slusk's face. "Let's make this quick, ship the Jedi's corpse off to Nar Shaddaa as quickly as possible. It'll put Goto in a better mood."

Liviana glances knowingly at me. "So much for telling me where the _Hawk_ is, right?"

"Never knew where it was, sorry. Let's get this over with, Stephen."

Slusk laughs, or rather the equivalent of a human laugh. It's an odd sound. "_Didn't you hear, Luxa? Goto's spy is retiring today._"

I nod. "Sorry, Luxa."

"That makes this easy," the woman says. "Take care of all of them. Take the Jedi alive if you can. If not, doesn't matter."

Before I even have time to raise my arm to aim at any of the Exchange goons, Luxa shoots first. Like Han Solo.

And much like Greedo, Slusk is no longer capable of drawing oxygen into his alien lungs. A good chunk of his head flies out of his skull and impacts the window on the other side of the room. Another second later, his body collapses in a heap.

Thankfully, though, the two turrets on either side of Slusk's desks don't engage. When your head explodes so quickly into the battle, I guess you don't have time to press a button or two. Not so great is the fact that we're right here in front of Luxa. And the Gamorreans with their axes. Not a pleasant range.

I engage my stealth field, and start backpedalling to get some distance between myself and Luxa. The feeling isn't too bad this time, I think. My stomach doesn't feel great…

I swallow what little was about to come up from my stomach, and take a shot at one of the Gamorreans. Now I'm not invisible, so I shoot right away at the pig monster several more times. I move onto Luxa, and apparently so does everyone else.

Gamorreans really can't fight for shit, and four against one doesn't lend well for Luxa.

Well… That had to be done, I guess.

Atton breaks the silence after Luxa's death. "Maybe Nar Shaddaa isn't such a good idea after all."

"Why's that?" Liviana asks, not taking her eyes away from cleaning blood off her vibroblade.

"You heard them, sounds like this Goto has a quite a bounty on the Jedi. And I wouldn't like to waltz right into the Exchange's headquarters. Goto won't be happy about wrecking all of his operations here on Telos, either."

"Probably not," Liviana smirks. "And it's going to be a lot harder for him to set up again here. But that's not really my concern."

"Well, it might be if he plans to send more people after you. Just saying," Atton warns. "Hey, he might even try and get your new friend, too."

Huh. Yeah, I guess that's a possibility.

"There's no point worrying about it right now," Liviana points out, "We've got to get back to Chodo Habat. Sooner we get through helping him the sooner we can find our ship and get off this station."

"I am not sure about our alliance with the Ithorians and Chodo Habat," Kreia interjects. "The Ithorian has his own motives, and wishes to use us for the benefit of his own herd. Our objectives are of no concern to him."

"And what would you suggest, siding with Czerka?" Liviana challenges, "I don't trust Lorso or her people, and we need to get down to the surface. Only the Ithorians have access to the restoration zones."

"There are multiple ways to find the _Ebon Hawk_ without running errands for meaningless restoration efforts. Should you prove useless to the Ithorians, they will manoeuvre you into a situation where we will find the Sith trailing us again."

"And we all know how much fun that was," Atton says, "I was hoping they went down after they managed to wipe out an entire planet."

"We'll find the ship _before_ the Sith show up," Liviana reassures, walking back out of Slusk's office. "I for one am not leaving this station in Republic custody. Are you coming with us?"

I stare at what's left of Slusk until I realise she's talking to me. "Yeah. I mean, the Exchange isn't going to be too happy with me. Sooner I get off this station the better."

Here we go again, right? Different game, but I'm not the same person I was five years ago.

Still, it's a great chance to get out of Goto's grasp.

I flip off the security camera on the way out.

* * *

Thanks for reading, why don't you leave a review? Please?


	4. Chapter 4: Droids and Electric Sheep

Chapter 04: Droids and Electric Sheep

"Sometimes, the only realists are the dreamers."

~Paul Wellstone

**Author's Note: As much as I like KotOR 2, I really dislike Citadel Station. Seriously. That's one reason I was slow to write this, but yeah. Here it is! Things will pick up pretty soon.****  
**

* * *

The Ithorian compound is humid. And hot.

Really hot and humid, actually. I wonder if the Ithorians tampered with the environmental controls in this compartment. While you normally get some customisation over those settings, not this much. I want to shed my layer of armour and the jumpsuit underneath. Since the latter is designed to provide a thin layer of protection, it isn't exactly helpful in the whole 'I need to stay cool' department. Maybe it keeps heat in.

Right now it's also doing a great job of collecting sweat. God, I feel disgusting. Like I need a shower or two.

A bead of sweat drops onto the floor from my head, thankfully, I can't hear it over all the fans. That would be embarrassing.

I tug at my collar, desperate to get some air in there. If the freaking Ithorians add plenty of bugs, this would be a lot like Kashyyyk.

I hated Kashyyyk. Chodo Habat, the Ithorian's leader, better not be using that planet as a basis for Telos. It's been quite a while since I went down to Telos' surface, and since we're going down there in a while, I'm going to be really cross.

The Exile and the rest of the party haven't really filled me in on the details thus far. Thankfully, I'm a little ahead of them. Well, who am I kidding. I'm a lot ahead of them at the moment. Which is why I'm not all that upset with the fact I'm being dragged along into the Ithorian compound. Namely, I'm mad because I'm going to be liquefied in here.

Now that the Exchange presence on the Citadel has been eradicated, I guess my new job is to join the Exile in getting off the station. Since we're still pretty early into the game, Liviana hasn't run into the whole 'here is what you need to do' part of the story. That isn't too far from now. Once she's done helping the Ithorians, we're headed down to Telos' fucked up surface. That's where we'll run into Atris – the first of the few remaining Jedi.

For the second time in my life, I have seen the future. The video game template of the future, rather. I've long ago given up trying to figure out that part of my life. It's just something I don't plan on understanding any time soon. This time, though… This time I'm going to be a lot smarter about how I use my knowledge.

I'm starting to wish I played KotOR 2 a few more times instead of KotOR 1. Though, you know what, maybe LucasArts should have let Obsidian finish the damn game. Well, I can just add that to the list of reasons as to why this time around is going to be different. Even if I don't know all the details, I still have an edge.

An edge I plan on using against Goto. Maybe find some of the old gang, I don't know. We'll just have to see how this pans out – I guess.

Holy shit, I think I'm going to pass out. Maybe if I stick my tongue out, I can hydrate myself! The air is thick enough!

Seems like Atton and I share a similar opinion for once, though. "At this rate, the Ithorians should be giving us our own ship any day now. But somehow I think we're going to be running more of their errands. First their droid, then knocking out the Exchange and bringing one along…"

"Don't worry, I'm sure Chodo Habat is going to be so happy to see me," I chuckle, bending forward in order to pass underneath a large tree that happens to be sitting out here in their atrium. In the game this place looked like a doctor's office, but in reality… More like a miniature forest has taken up residence in here.

All they need now are a pack of monkeys to literally throw shit at the few visitors that come through here. I'm sure I'd be one of those people that get pelted. I can't read alien body language, but I don't think the greeter near the front door was pleased to see me in the little group here. That's honestly just a guess, though.

"All that's left is Czerka," Liviana mutters. "When we first met Chodo Habat there was that whole speech about the evils of Czerka Corporation. With the Exchange out of the way…"

"Fifty credits says they want us to the entire company before they finally give us a shuttle," Atton chuckles. "I think we could have broken into someone's apartment and bought our ship by now."

"Either that or they're just going to demand you dress in tights and fight all the organised crime on the Citadel," I add with a laugh.

And the joke just went right over everyone's head, judging by the lack of a good reaction. Tough crowd.

Alright, let's tick that off the list for the whole 'saving the galaxy' experience… Poor sense of humour. Just like old times, eh?

Somehow in this disastrous mess of a room, we seem to have found a doorway between two … uh, tree trunks? Whatever plant this is, though, it seems to have a force field around it for security reasons. Thankfully, that means we can all listen to the low hum of the field rather than my heavy breathing.

There's a single Ithorian standing in front of the door, tinkering with a panel near on the plants. Liviana takes the lead, and I stand behind Kreia. I don't know if I've ever met this particular Ithorian before, but I know they haven't been big fans of the Exchange.

Actually, I'm not sure that anyone on this station liked us very much. I didn't like us very much!

"Moza, we're here to see Chodo Habat," Liviana blurts out, getting the alien's attention quite quickly.

"_I thought you left to get rid of the Exchange_…" Moza mutters, his flat head leaning to one side. "_Not bring one them back with you instead._"

"Slusk, Luxa and all of their lackeys are dead. I think that constitutes as 'getting rid of the Exchange,'" Liviana groans.

Moza pauses for another moment before opening the door. I expect a gust of cold air to come from the other side, but instead we're all greeted with even more heat and humidity.

Why? Seriously! Do the Ithorians get off on this?

The compartment back here, the inner sanctum of the Ithorian compound, has quite a few more trees. Unlike the ones closer to the entrance, these are smaller. But they're everywhere! Hanging from the ceiling, even. And even those have small monitoring systems attached to them. It's almost impressive. The clashing of various smells are holding this place back from being that great. Well, and the heat.

The Ithorians must be in short supply, though. There's only one of them in here, or at least, only one that I can see. Must be the boss man here, Chodo Habat. I've never met the guy, but I've heard plenty about him. Ambitious, apparently. The rest of what I know isn't very complimentary. But then again, most of that information comes from Czerka employees I talked to while wiping the floor with them in Pazaak.

Drunk, angry Czerka employees are the only ones worth talking to.

Chodo Habat's alien voice is noticeably lower than Moza's, though it's not like I can honestly understand either one them, instead relying on the translator implant that nearly everyone has installed, myself included. It's one of the standard things I've had to catch up on after the Jedi Civil War. The other big one was correction for my crappy eyes. You can't wear the same contact lenses for three months.

"_I didn't expect you to be back so quickly_," Habat says, looking away from his own work. "_How did your meeting with Loppak Slusk go? Did he sent one of his associates to negotiate with us?_"

"No, he's with us now. But you don't need to worry, the Exchange won't be troubling you any longer," Liviana ominously answers.

Chodo's head slumps forward just a bit. "_I sense that your meeting did not go peacefully. I t was not my intention to spread violence throughout this already ravaged world. Still, my herd and I are in your debt. But for the Restoration Project to continue, the Telosian government must see what has become Czerka._"

"And you want our help with that?" Liviana frowns. "Just once, I'd like to have things done without any strings attached. What's your problem with Czerka?"

Oh, god, no, don't get him started! I can't tell if Liviana was being sarcastic or not there, but I've heard plenty about the feud between Czerka and the Ithorians. The latter wants to restore Telos, the former is just looking to use the planet for money. The two don't see eye to eye, to say the least.

"_Czerka may have started their operations on the Citadel with some sense of honour, their massive security division is nothing more than an army of mercenaries and thugs. They supply weapons to local black markets, along with the Exchange. They steal our Restoration Zones on the surface and illegally salvage materials left on Telos_."

"What does Czerka want with salvage?" Atton frowns. "Anything outside of the Restoration Zones would slowly dissolve. The atmosphere is acidic, it has been since the Sith attacked."

Thanks for that, Saul Karath. At least Carth got rid of you back on the _Leviathan_.

"_The Republic had a number of secret military bases on the surface_," the Ithorian answers. "_Whatever is left inside is still intact. And since Citadel Station controls the Restoration Zones, Czerka has simply seized many of them from us_. _Legally, neither the Telosian Council nor the TSF can do anything against Czerka._"

"Why not?" Liviana asks.

"Hey, the TSF couldn't ever manage to crack down on the Exchange," I point out. "There must be a lot of red tape holding them back. I saw Lieutenant Grenn plenty of times, but he never arrested any of us."

"_Czerka has imbedded itself within the government, and they use loopholes in the laws to safeguard themselves from investigation. The only way we can stop them from ruining the restoration efforts is to being Czerka's corruption to light. This is what I need you to do_."

I exchange a tense look with Atton and Liviana, but neither of them says anything, so I don't either, letting Chodo Habat keep on talking. "_The Czerka offices in Residential Module 082 contains a secure mainframe. It's a closed system. The only way to get in is from the inside."_

"Even if we could get in there, it would take hours to find what we need, and even longer to copy those files," Liviana muses. "What are you suggesting, Habat?"

"_There's a Czerka employee that our herd has used as a contact for nearly a year. He works as a technician, and may be willing to assist us get a droid unit into the Czerka mainframe._"

Right away, I hear Atton groan. "A droid? We're going to put all of our hopes in a droid? Well, I hope someone doesn't switch its programming around to screw us over."

"Better than someone who's sole interest is getting out on jail on Peragus," Liviana taunts, referring back to how she originally found Atton during the start of KotOR 2. Damn, am I glad I wasn't there, too. Running around a facility where all the droids were reprogrammed to kill organics isn't my idea of fun.

Now that I mention it, I'm not a really big fan of droids either. Namely, thanks to HK. Hey, that whole Peragus deal was one of the mass produced HK-50 units, wasn't it? One of the many copies that run around all over the place that came from…

Somewhere, I guess. Goto, maybe? I don't know. But if Goto's responsible, I can add that to the list of reasons why I hate him. Making copies of HK-47 is a moronic idea. Oh, shit, we're going to run into those soon.

Ah, well. They won't recognise me.

I'll have to get over the fact that HK-47 is sitting in the _Ebon Hawk_ right now, damaged and waiting for the Exile to fix it up. Add that to the list of things I'll handle when it comes up. Maybe, if I get really lucky, his memory won't be all there. How much damage has he taken the last five years? Because, I swear to god, if I hear _psychotic meatbag_ one more time…

"_My contact's name is Corrun Falt,_" the Ithorian says. "_You should be able to find him in the Entertainment Module cantina._"

As in, the only place anyone ever hangs out on this boring ass space station. Maybe it would be better if they built it with something besides orange and steel coloured walls.

"Alright. Consider it… my investment in Telos," Liviana says, rolling her eyes. "Is there anything else?"

"_Just a reassurance that my herd and I are in your debt. Until we find a more fitting way to commend you for taking care of the Exchange, please take this. It came from one of my people, a Jedi."_

I watch as Chodo pulls a small circular object out of a pocket and drops it right into Liviana's outstretched hand. I haven't the faintest clue what it just based off what it looks. But there was this whole subplot about remaking our lightsaber in the game, so this must be the start of that whole deal. Or another step, I don't really know. Whatever. Lightsabers generally get less impressive the more you see them. And I've seen a lot. Especially reds.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," the former Jedi says. "We'll be back if we have any updates on Czerka."

Oh, can we leave now? Before I have a bloody heat stroke?

Before any of us even turn around to leave the room, I notice that the Ithorian herd's leader is already back to whatever it was he was doing earlier. Checking out some plants, by the looks of it. I shrug and walk out of the room. Liviana is the last to leave, and out of the corner of my eye, I think I see her taking a long look at that lightsaber part Chodo just handed her. A few seconds later, though, she's right there with Atton and I, and Kreia as well. Who, of course, has stayed creepily quiet for the past hour.

I don't like that, it's really off-putting. Atton might be an ass, and might make some pretty rude comments – even in my direction. But I can relate to that. After all, sometimes, I can really ride the snark train. Especially if assassin droids are nearby.

I follow Atton out of the main office area, into the small reception room. The greeter nods in our direction, but I take much more of an interest in the change in climate. Since there isn't any flora out here, it doesn't feel like a torture chamber.

All right, now instead of actively sweating like a pig, I'm just covered in sweat from head to toe. All four of us march out of the Ithorian compound and out into the large, open residential module. This one is the same one that Czerka and the Exchange are based out of. Was based out of, in the Exchange's chase. This particular module, Residential 082 also has some housing – including my own. Like a big city block.

The entertainment module with the same number is only a short distance from here. I wait for Liviana to direct our course. All right, seems like we're making the short walk to the cantina from here. It isn't a long one, though I prefer to take the lazy route and just ride the shuttle for a minute.

Much better option when you've had a bit to drink.

"I'm surprised," Atton remarks, breaking the silence. "What happened to the whole exiled Jedi can't have lightsabers rule?"

"If I'm being totally honest, I'm starting to miss it," Liviana answers. "If the Sith are coming after us, it could be a useful tool."

"Normally, it is the males who place such an importance on a weapon, as a form of compensation." Kreia cuts in. "The knowledge will come with time."

I laugh, surprised that I'm actually amused by Kreia's little quip. "Yeah, just look at Atton."

"Me?" The scoundrel turns on me. "Hey, I'm not the one who feels it necessary to go around and slit their co-worker's throats. I'd say that's compensation for something. You're making me slightly worried about being on your side."

"Don't worry, I only do that the scum of the galaxy," I scowl. "You know, the kind of person that ends up in prison. That is where they keep those kinds of people, right?"

Atton blinks. "You know, I think that might be the Exchange's recruitment office. What sort of qualifications did you have? The usual pointless merc work, or the former Sith soldier background?"

"Nope, that ain't me," I say, trying to keep my temper in check. "I don't know _who_ that could be, though."

"I see what you mean," Liviana snaps. "You two need to stop this, or I'm going to do it for you. I don't particularly give a damn if you don't like each other. If you don't start behaving like adults, I'll just leave the two of you here. Atton, I don't think the TSF will like to see you here after we've left. And you, Stephen. I'd wager the Exchange is going to try and figure out what happened here? Want to be here when that happens?"

"Not really," I admit. "Sorry."

"And really, Atton," the former Jedi glares. "You think that I really want to follow the rules of the Jedi right now?"

Atton brushes off Liviana's comments. "Better than Sith rules."

"Perhaps the sooner we fix Chodo Habat's problems, the sooner we can find the _Ebon Hawk_ and leave the station," Kreia coldly suggests. Though, that wasn't much of a suggestion, it was more of a whole 'get the hell back on track command.'

Okay, getting the hell back on track.

I take a look at the cantina through the open door. It doesn't look terribly crowded inside, but there's at least fifty people in there. Not counting the staff and dancing crew. "So, uh, how are we supposed to find Chodo's contact in here? Should we just start asking?"

"Czerka's first shift ended less than thirty minutes ago," Liviana mutters, looking over the heads of the crowd. "Anyone dissatisfied enough with Czerka Corp. and is one of their technicians is going to be here. And they won't have changed. Sound familiar?"

Not really. Going straight to the cantina after work, not even bothering to go home?

Oh, wait. That was me.

Fuck.

I ignore the quip and join Atton and Liviana in the whole searching experience. I don't see anyone near the bar or any of the usual tables. Probably wouldn't be at any of the Pazaak tables. The Czerka group there doesn't normally come until later in the evening. And they're normally in a pretty good mood. Until they lose a good sum of money. Then they're pissed and cross.

"Right at the front," Atton points to the a man of medium build, dressed in the usual Czerka uniform of orange and black, crashed on one of the seats right in front of the Twi'lek dancers. To the best of my knowledge, they're basically only one step above strippers. Instead, they just dance wearing skimpy outfits.

Shame, that's so common all over the galaxy. I know there are some people who harbour a bit of racism towards Twi'leks for that.

Liviana's words pull me back towards reality, which is populated by scantily clad dancers and loud music. "You Corrun Falt?"

"That depends on who exactly is asking," the man says, not looking away from his entertainment. "You the Jedi Jana Lorso tried to recruit to do her dirty work?"

"Yeah, that's me. Chodo Habat says I should talk to you about breaking into Lorso's mainframe."

There you go, you've got his attention, he's looking our direction now! "And what interest does a Jedi have in all of this?"

"I'm looking for dirt, Falt," Liviana says, putting an arm around Corrun's chair. "I'm here for the Ithorians. Czerka's operations on Telos are coming to a grinding halt. Are you in, or are you out?"

The past Jedi I've worked with haven't been such good talkers, I got to admit. Darius could be scary at times. But I don't think I ever saw him or Bastila working the persuasion factor quite so nicely. In particular, I like the way she's leaning on the chair – inviting, but it's abundantly clear that she could mess this guy up pretty quickly.

With or without a lightsaber.

"Uh, I'm …" the Czerka employee mumbles. "I'm not a fan of Lorso either, but…"

"We'll be discreet."

"This isn't some sort of loyalty test, is it? Answer wrong, and suddenly I find myself somewhere else in the company?"

For a private company, this Jana Lorso really keeps her employees in check. I've never really looked up labour laws for Telos, so I can't say if things like loyalty tests are illegal or not. There's not much of a reason to look up laws when you work for the Exchange. Unless you're trying to find interesting loopholes.

Liviana moves one of her hands from one side to the other. "This isn't a loyalty test. Tell me what I want to know. Now."

These aren't the droids you're looking for, right? Neat trick.

"Well… Alright, I guess. You want access to the internal mainframe? There's dirt in there, all right. But other than Lorso – only B4-D4 has permission to interface with Czerka's mainframe. He's the protocol droid, her administrative assistant. If you controlled B4-D4, you could walk right in."

Liviana takes a step back. "You mean, B4 could walk right in."

"Yeah, whatever. You could use him to get into the mainframe ."

"Alright, then how can we get a hold of B4-D4?"

For the first time in this conversation, Corrun Falt gets up to speak with the exiled Jedi. "We've contracted our maintenance for the droids out to a Duros named Opo Chano. Another way for Czerka to increase profits and lower operating costs. He lives in the Residential Module 082. 2B, specifically. You could probably use him, or his technician credentials to uh… borrow Czerka's administrative droid."

Opo Chano? "I know the guy," I add. "He's in debt to the Exchange, probably why they can use him for dirt cheap."

"Sounds like we owe this Opo Chano a visit," Liviana says. "How well do you know this guy?"

"Not well," I admit. "Mostly we used him for our own maintenance. But he owes quite a lot of money to Goto. We talked about shaking him up and raiding his assets for money a few days ago."

Business, it's oh so pleasant, isn't it?

Atton's face turns into a bit of a scowl. "Gambler takes too much money out, but he's sure he can make it back. Then, next thing he knows, he turns to the Exchange for a loan. It's not too uncommon. Thing is, the Exchange's interest rates aren't very forgiving. I wouldn't be surprised if a good amount of their money comes from loans."

"Hey, none of this is my problem. I'm not getting involved in this," Corrun interrupts, turning back to his entertainment. "If Lorso finds out about this, I'm dead."

"Thanks for your help," Liviana snorts, tapping the man's shoulder before walking away.

I take a few steps back, lowering the relative volume of the music. I head out of the cantina, my ears still ringing just a bit. I don't normally go right up to the musicians and gape at the dancers, and the fact that they feel it necessary to play the music so loudly would be one of the reasons why.

Once we're back in the relatively quiet corridor, Kreia turns to address Liviana – and puts her back to Atton and I. "Should this continue into an endless series of conversations for the purpose of hacking a machine, I will return to our residence… Where I will be mercifully free from fools and murderers."

For a second, I think she's referring to Corrun Falt or Opo Chano, but Atton is always 'the fool' to Kreia, right?

"You okay?" Kreia's pupil asks, looking slightly concerned. I notice her left hand drifts towards the right, just a little.

I almost forgot Kreia lost a hand back on Peragus – courtesy of one of the Sith. Long story, there… Kreia used to be the Jedi who trained Revan. Something happened there, and she went to the other side. And there's two other big Sith Lords, one of whom was on Peragus. They overthrew Kreia a while ago, cast her out.

So she's sort of like a Palpatine meets Jolee Bindo with a touch of manipulative bitch.

Off to see Opo Chano, then. Uh, again, in my case.

* * *

I wait a few seconds, Liviana and Atton's footsteps continue for a few seconds before coming to a stop. The only other noise seems to be the metal on metal – tinkering, most likely. Having been in Opo's room before, I've seen all the workbenches and equipment he's got in there.

Wisely, the decision was made that I should wait outside and not join in the effort to get Opo's droid technician credentials. Atton pointed out that if Opo is already in trouble, he's not likely to hand over his work credentials if I show up too.

Though, Liviana did say that I should join them if they 'need to put the screws in him.'

I can't decide if that would be fun or not.

"_I told your boss already, I am getting your credits. I, uh…_" the Duros' alien voice stammers, easy enough to hear with the door open. "_You're not with the Exchange. What do you want_?"

"I'm here for your droid technician credentials."

"_My credentials_? _What for_?"

"We need to borrow Czerka's administrative assistant droid."

That threw him off. _"B4-D4_? _Why_?"

"I'm with Chodo Habat. I need B4 to gain access to Czerka's mainframe – they have data that'll implicate Czerka's corruption to the Telosian authorities and to the Republic."

There's a long pause before the technician finally answers. "_Czerka's corruption. That should be easier said than done. That's a good cause, but I'm afraid I cannot do that. I don't even know who you are_!"

"I'm the Jedi that _everyone_ has been talking about."

"_I see… But I still can't do that_."

"Why the hell not?" Liviana asks, her voice accompanied by two footsteps. Presumably because she took a few steps towards the Duros.

"_If I jeopardise my contract with Czerka… I need the credits_."

"Credits? For a loan?"

"_It's no concern of yours._"

And I thought Liviana and Atton were doing alright with this guy. I lean against the wall, and nod idly at a passing citizen. She gives me an odd look and walks off in a hurry.

See, I just repel all the women!

"We answered all of your questions," Atton adds.

A few more seconds of silence. "_I took a loan from the Exchange to cover gambling debts. I had to stay on this station to repay it_. _Leaving the Citadel would be suicide unless I have the credits I need_."

"We just dealt with the Exchange, they're not in any position to enforce your debt. Maybe this is your lucky day," Liviana suggests. "They're dead. And dead thugs generally aren't good at collecting money."

"_My loan is to Goto, I'll be dead before he lets the debt go. Luxa, Stephen and Slusk were just Goto's pawns here on Citadel station. I'm glad to see them gone._"

Fuck you, buddy. Not my fault you took out an illegal loan. Well, I'm not in a great position here, but I don't really give too much of a damn.

"Why not say your credentials were stolen?"

"_I do not know if I can lie that well_…" Opo mutters. He's got a bit of a point, he's a rubbish liar. I heard a particularly bad reason as to why he didn't have his credits. Something involving a crazy Gizka with a desire for credits, I don't remember.

"And why exactly can't we just bring the droid here?" Atton groans.

"_Trying to get a droid out of the Czerka offices without scheduled maintenance or credentials_? _Czerka's mercenaries would be all over you in a matter of seconds_."

Liviana takes a loud, audible breath. "How much debt have you gotten yourself into, exactly?"

"_Twenty five hundred credits._"

"I can give you an extension on that, in return for the credentials. Just let me confer with my… associate."

Footsteps – in my direction. I stand up straight, right as both Liviana and Atton walk right out of the apartment, but the door stays open behind them.

"_Are you sure? I could repay you later!" _Opo shouts, though nobody says anything back – leaving the Duros sort of awkwardly staring out here.

"I assume you heard that," Liviana says, ignoring the droid technician. "Is he right about his debt belonging to Goto? There's no way to take care of that?"

"Goto loves his precision," I remark. "He won't let anything slide, not even a few credits. Remember how badly Luxa wanted a promotion? Any other criminal organisation, and she would have run the place years ago. But not with Goto around. Rigid efficiency is the only way he knows how to run things."

Atton shakes his head. "How is this Exchange boss even going to keep an eye on debtors when all of his agents are dead or defected?"

Good question, but I think I know the answer to that one. "We have a few people that report to us that aren't… members of the Exchange, per say… They normally keep an eye on all the incoming and outgoing traffic. And it probably won't be long until Goto slowly rebuilds operations here."

"Why is this Goto even interested in Telos?"

"Same reasons Czerka is, I guess," I shrug. "It isn't like he keeps us in the loop."

"Back to the technician," Liviana blinks. "You can't do anything with this?"

I bite my bottom lip, thinking back to the Exchange offices. I'm sure Slusk would have had the power to fix this, being the local boss. Luxa couldn't do much of anything, but she was more involved in the smuggling and arms dealing that frequently went on during the station. Just a few days ago, there were these two bounty hunters that need illegally modified rifles…

Normally, those kinds of transactions aren't done electronically.

And… Luxa and Slusk usually put Goto's cut of the money out at the end of the week… Which is still in two days. I don't think they'll be able to do that.

"There could be something left at the Exchange offices," I finally say, fairly confident in my answer.

"See what you can find, as long as the TSF isn't all over the scene. Otherwise, have Chodo Habat cough up the credits we need," Liviana orders.

Oh, good. Orders.

"What are we doing?" Atton raises an eyebrow. "We can't go get that droid without the technician credentials. Unless you want to go pull another droid off the streets and teach it to break into secure mainframes."

Liviana gestures back at the apartment she just left. "We've got details to hammer out."

"I'll be right back," I promise, though I'm honestly a little uncertain about what I'm doing. Sure, just grab some credits from the Exchange offices. Or from the Ithorians, hopefully they remember I'm with Liviana… Otherwise this is going to be a real short trip.

I take one last look backwards before heading off. This apartment complex is right next to mine, so I'm pretty familiar with this trip. I pass by a few people, not nodding at any of them this time. A few more doors – alright, here we are. Naturally, we're missing the Rodian door guard… Futuristic police tape, but I don't actually see anyone here.

The door is locked, though. A few strokes into the computer changes that quite quickly. See, if you murder all your co-workers, nobody can change your passwords. This kind of makes me wonder if I'm still getting paychecks.

Probably not, honestly.

Once the door opens, I take a cautious step inside. Alright, there's nobody here. The place is basically empty… I walk over to the reception desk and key myself in.

The main lobby is just as empty, but the hallway to the offices isn't quite as empty. The smell is terrible – due to the Gamorrean corpses. Though, Benok's goons don't exactly produce the most lovely stench whilst they're lying here, dead.

Oh, hello Benok. Great to see you again. You're sporting a rather deep incision there, aren't you?

I move past that mess, and into Luxa's office. I haven't spent a lot of time in here… I take a look underneath her desk… Ah, there we go.

My, my, Luxa. Those mercenaries must pay a lot for their guns.

This should be only a few days' worth of credits, but this is definitely a few thousand credits. I do a quick rough count, and it's just over three thousand. I wonder how much of this was going to Goto and how much of it was going into Luxa's pockets. She doesn't need it now, obviously. And neither does Goto, if you ask me.

I take a look at the funds wadded up in my hands. Honestly, if I supplemented my own money with this… Maybe I could get passage off Citadel Station? Start over somewhere else? Maybe somewhere sunny, but not like Tatooine – someplace where the Exchange doesn't have too much of a presence. Or at least, where they won't be willing to chase me. How far are they going to go on this, anyway?

No, this way I can ensure Goto won't be coming after me.

"So, you really did it. I didn't think you and the Jedi would actually get rid of all your fellow criminals."

I quickly pocket the credits and get back on my feet. I turn to face the voice, though I already recognise the slightly condescending tone and voice. The white and orange TSF armour only confirms my suspicions. Hello, Lieutenant Grenn. I can never get enough of you.

"Are you here to congratulate me or arrest me?" I ask, slowly inching towards the exit.

"Officially, the TSF has yet to investigate this case," Grenn says, running a hand along the doorframe to Luxa's office. "Unofficially, I'm glad to hear that the 'Bumani Exchange Corporation' has been dealt with."

"I should be going now," I smirk, making a move towards the door.

Sadly, Grenn stops me. "I don't know what you're doing with the Jedi, she's still under surveillance in regards to the destruction of Peragus. There's a Republic warship that's going to be here in less than twenty hours. They're taking custody of the Jedi."

"I didn't know that," I lie, clamping down on my bottom lip.

"If need be, the TSF can take you into protective custody. With enough evidence, it could be easy to make a case to the Telosian Council against the Exchange."

I laugh – hard. "I've been working here for two years. In that time, you've never once been able to arrest any of us. Not Slusk, Benok, Luxa or myself. So I'd rather not trust you lot while Goto rebuilds his operations here."

"I should have figured," Grenn groans. "It's not like a known agent of the Exchange would cooperate with the authorities, right? What are you even doing in here?"

Okay, Stephen, don't think about the money, come up with a convincing lie. I throw a hand into my other pocket, and pull out the photo from my flat. "Grabbing some personal belongings. Last chance, no?"

"This was Luxa's office," Grenn says, pointing at the nameplate on the desk.

"We were close," I quickly add, looking back at what little Luxa kept in here. Not even a photo. "You know how it is. You start off co-workers, and things escalate…"

Alright, Stephen – shut up! Don't think about that, it's honestly nauseating.

"Sure…" Grenn looks pretty confused, though. "I'm sending in my officers in for analyse the crime scene. We'll be keeping an eye on both you and the Jedi. Twenty hours."

"Alright, alright," I throw my hands up, squeezing my way past Grenn, and shout a last farewell to the TSF officer. "See you around, Lieutenant."

"Consider what I've said, protective custody," Grenn repeats. "I thought I pegged as different from the rest of your little group. If you have any moral decency, you're going to have to come to terms with what you've done here. Helping take the Exchange to justice might be just the thing."

Yeah, right. "I'll think about it."

God, that could have gone a lot worse. I guess Grenn was feeling nice today. Having a majority of your crime bosses dealt with in one day would probably do that.

I carefully walk past the bodies again, making a pointed effort to look away from Benok's mutilated corpse. Don't look… Don't look…

Come to terms with the things you've done. It made sense at the time, but I wanted this. I knew it was wrong, at least on some level… But I didn't care. I've killed people before, but during battles.

Hell, I was a soldier. My purpose was to help save the Republic against the Sith and Malak. The people whose lives I ended – well, it had to happen. Calculated murder was part of our jobs; we were pawns for a greater plan and a greater organisation. It was rough, but I got used to it.

This was different, and I'm not all that proud of what I've done.

When Goto offered me this job… I told myself I was doing this for a good reason, and that at least I wasn't like Davik, Slusk, or Goto. But…

I'm not all that different, am I? I don't laugh while extorting debtors or sell arms to murders so they can go on a rampage. But my hands are far from clean.

On my way out, I try to push away these thoughts. At least right now, I've got a job to do and a new boss. And as long as she doesn't turn out to be really interested in dark side points, I've got a much better purpose right now.

More or less, anyway.

I close the distance between the apartments and the former Exchange offices rather quickly. It doesn't look like Atton or Liviana are still outside the room. Maybe it would be a good idea if one of them comes out first.

No – let's just get this over with.

"I don't think giving the droid the ability to lie is a good idea," Atton's voice reaches my ears, his tone really condescending.

Liviana answers the question, right as I walk inside. "And would are we going to do if Lorso gives it an order or asks what it's up to? How is it going to get access to the mainframe?"

"And what else could it do in the meantime? It very well ruin this entire operation in an instant."

"It'll have to follow our directives – that's part of the new program," Liviana retorts, pointing at a few lines of code on a large computer screen Opo Chano has set up. Still waving towards that setup, she acknowledges my presence with a quick nod. "Everything taken care of?"

"Yeah," I slowly hand over the necessary credits, keeping the rest in my pocket. I look up as I make the transaction, and both Liviana and Opo are staring right at me. Especially the droid technician. He looks almost ghastly.

"That's my other associate," the Exile dismisses, turning back to the nearby computer. "Are you sure these programming changes will enable to the droid to retrieve the data without being discovered?"

"_Well, if it doesn't, Czerka will be all over you with their mercenaries_," the Duros answers, not looking away from me.

"Reassuring," Atton snorts. "Let's just get this over with – that way we can see those mercenaries as soon as possible."

* * *

B4 was really easy to convince with those droid technician credentials. All it took was a quick flash and bam… There it went. Being a Czerka droid, he was awfully confused about being taken back to the Ithorian compound. However, his reaction was better than mine was once I remembered that this place was every bit as vile as I remember from a few hours ago. Opo Chano was uh… nice enough to provide the program we need to have B4 break into Czerka and retrieve the files that we need for the Ithorians. However, he wasn't exactly willing to crack open the droid and install it. So, we brought it back to the Ithorians… It only took a few moments for them to the necessary work.

After testing B4's ability to lie, we sent him on his way. That was two hours ago, and we decided to wait it out here with the Habat's herd. But… Come on! There's only so long you can talk to these people or sit here staring at plants or small animals they've been keeping in tanks for study.

Part of me almost wishes Liviana joined up with Czerka instead. Their offices are at an excellent temperature.

I stare at the exact same tree that I've been looking at for probably ten minutes. Though, it feels like I've been sitting down for so long that my sweaty ass is going to be stuck to this bench. My equipment is resting next to me, I wasn't comfortable having my blaster pistol poking right into my gut.

For the third time, I dissemble the weapon into its basic components – a process that once took several minutes I can now do in a matter of seconds. Even though the results haven't changed since the last time I did this, I run through the usual checks. No damages, everything works great. The gas cartridge is basically full – that lasts a long time. And the current power cell seems okay for now.

I reverse the process, taking a little satisfaction from the firing mechanism sliding in place.

Now what?

I fidget in my seat, and look around the room. It's no different than usual. Atton's supposedly busy leaning against a wall, and Liviana is deep in conversation with Chodo and Moza.

Okay… I move back a bit and hit my head against the wall behind me. Ouch.

The humming of security field and small animals is joined by metal feet slapping against the floor. Squeaky metal noises, specifically. Some droids might be stealthy, but this is really not one of them. Thank goodness, B4-D4 is back…Better have finished his job. A lot less suspense when the game shifts so you can control the droid to do your bidding.

Regardless of that, I leap out of my seat and take a step towards Liviana, Moza and Chodo. And that's when I realise I just left my equipment.

Now that I've got that...

The Ithorian's leader speaks first to the reprogrammed machine. "_Have you acquired the files from the Czerka mainframe_?"

B4's head rotates from side to side for several seconds. "_Yes, Master Habat_. _The files are right here on this datapad._"

Chodo takes the necessary data from the droid. "_Good, you are free to go._"

Atton hasn't exactly joined us, but I hear him snort from all the way across the room.

"_Is that really a good idea?_" Moza asks. "_This droid can lie, and nobody expects a droid to lie_. _Think of what it could do. It could expose our actions to Czerka._"

"_B4 aided us against Czerka, using his abilities for the greater good. I don't believe there will be any problems_," Moza's superior argues, dismissing the droid and shifting the conversation to Liviana. "_With these files, the Telosian authorities have no choice but to remove Czerka from Telos' surface._"

"_I know someone on Telos' surface that may be able to help you find your ship. A Zabrak ex-military engineer named Bao-Dur helped design the shield system used to protect the Restoration Zones. His knowledge of Telos' surface and the shield grip is unparalleled._"

I shuffle my feet awkwardly, feeling a lot like a third wheel as Liviana answers. "Bao-Dur? Where is he?"

Bao-Dur? That's right, we'll meet him on the surface, but I guess that's the next guy to join our little party. Assuming we aren't all murdered down on the surface of Telos, I guess it'll be us five aboard the _Ebon Hawk_. Oh, and T3! That little droid! Friendly face… Or whatever.

It's just weird to think about it. Being back on that ship, like old times, but with all new faces? This really is a fresh start.

"_Do you remember the shuttle bay you recovered the Republic's information droid?_ _I will let you use one of our orbital shuttles. It'll take you to the planet's surface, one of the Restoration Zones under our control_._ Once you find Bao-Dur, you can make a return trip to Citadel Station_."

"Thank you."

Good thing, since the Republic is going to be here in a few hours to pick up Liviana. And the Exchange could be sending replacement agents any time now.

"_Before you leave us, there is one last thing_," the Ithorian finishes. "_When you agreed to help us, I promised that I would try and heal your connection to the Force. It is only fair that after great cost to yourself, I uphold this part of the bargain as well. You, me, my herd helped to build the life of this planet. Though we describe the restoration as a process, we are opening Telos to the Force._"

Mystery Force talk! I think every time anyone mentions the Force, my eyes gloss over and my brain starts to work less quickly. Remind me to stay clear of Kreia, I might just slip right into a coma and die. If there's some sort of mystical energy field controlling everything, it really hates me.

Meeting Selena might have destroyed whatever semblance of faith that I had. Higher power… Yeah, nope, just some manipulative bitch with technology leaps and bounds beyond what we had on Earth and here as well.

"Let's go," Liviana tells Atton and I.

Yeah, let's get off this damned space station. More importantly, let's just get out of the Ithorian's place already!

I practically rush out of the room to get proper air. Hey, this'll be the last I see of Citadel Station, as long as we don't come back. But the whole upcoming 'find the last of the Jedi, which are the same ones that told you screw off and go be an exile' mission coming up, I don't see that as likely.

And thank god for that.

At least I'm not wrestling a Rakghoul or forgetting to take off the safety this time around. Maybe, just maybe, I'm getting better at this.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5: Dead Planet

Chapter 05: Dead Planet

"Falsehood is invariably the child of fear in one form or another"

~Aleister Crowley

**Author's Note: Reality is a bitch.**

* * *

I run a hand along the rocks, and I feel the heat from the cave hitting me like a fist. The sounds of animals are echoing through the cavern, in contrast to the emptiness of the valley.

Goodness, you could hear a pen drop from a mile away here. Last time I was stuck in this place, I was slightly more concerned about being murdered by the Sith or the insects flying all over the place.

My hand drops to my side, and I look back at the ghostly figures behind me.

"And what's your justification now?" Luxa's mocks. "You're nothing more than a murderer. Useless, someone who wouldn't be missed."

"People who won't be missed, sure sounds like you," Benok adds, appearing on my right. "What about the people you ran from? Can you add that to the list of your sins?"

"He doesn't care."

"The psychotic meatbag is unstable, deranged." I expect to see the words come out of HK-47, hell, it sounds exactly like him. But it's from Luxa instead. "But he is amusing, isn't he?"

* * *

My senses return, and I push out what I can remember of my dream out of my mind.

The smell of burning metal quickly fills my senses. I try to force my eyes open, but my eyelids are remarkably heavy at the moment. Quite a bit of pain there, too.

Let me amend that.

There's pain just about everywhere. Legs, abdomen, head. Especially my chest.

I take a deep breath… That doesn't help, the smell is worse and my right side hurts like a royal bitch. My ears are ringing, just to top things off. I think I hear a bit of crackling, but I guess that could just be my ears turning into a new form of mush. Something like that, I'm sure I've been horribly maimed.

It's hot, though. Like a really warm, dry heat.

Oh, okay. There's a fire somewhere around here. This time, my eyes bolt open, and I see a bit of smoke in the corner of my vision. Other than that, the sky above is mostly clear. Nifty shade of blue, and way up there I think I can see some weird purple thing. And maybe a starship or shuttle or something flying around.

All those times I complained about being trapped in a little metal box they call a space station – this isn't exactly what I had in mind. The air doesn't seem to thick, at least. I can't taste smoke, for whatever that's worth.

I try and force myself up, and nearly cry out in pain.

Fuck, that hurts.

Okay, let's do this again.

I sit up, which is good enough while I catch my breath. My armour weights me down, but maybe that helped save me from some more damage. Perhaps if I rolled a better d20 score…

Shut up Stephen, you're not funny.

I reach for my blaster, but it isn't there. Well, I kind of need that, especially down here. Who am I kidding – you need a blaster anywhere, it seems.

Violence sure has a way of following me. What's that phrase, I don't look for trouble, trouble looks for me? Yeah, that's what's going on here.

I wince as I attempt to get on my feet again. This time, it seems to work. I could really use a medpac or pain killers right about now, but I'm lucky to be alive, all things considered. Maybe there is a bit of luck in my life right now, that would be quite a pleasant change of fortune. For once.

I see a blaster, probably my own, a few feet away. I basically limp towards it, and carefully bend over to pick it up. Yeah, that's mine all right. Good, I'd hate to have to replace another one of these.

Rather than holster it, I keep a firm grip on it, after checking to make sure it'll work correctly.

The big question of the hour – what else is out here?

Quite a bit of fire, most of it a safe distance away. My vision is still kind of blurry, but I think we're in a little valley. There's a few figures way off in the distance, though those could be Gizka or something. I think the Ithorians thought it would be a good idea to raise them down here for wildlife. From what I've heard, they ate everything else.

They at least put some plants down here, thin grass. In the distance, I think I can see that purple field again – the shield wall.

I'm glad we didn't hit that. We probably would have just been vaporised right then and there. Would have been loads of fun, I'm sure.

About twenty meters away, I think I can see the horse we rode in on, so to speak. Or rather, what's left of it.

How on earth did I end up over here, then?

I take a few steps towards the ruined hulk, nice and slow. I'm not going to push myself too hard and get myself messed up even more. That's just asking for more trouble.

I take another step, and something sure happens though.

Well then, I'm right back where I started. At least the same position. The sensation of pain quickly washes over my body. Time seems to slow down, and my ears are probably deafened. When I open my eyes, it's even worse than before.

The wind has been knocked right out of me, but I'm not sure how high that ranks on my list of problems right now. Because I think I can guess what just happened.

I stepped in the radius of a mine. But the fact that I still have both my legs and I'm not bleeding to death means that I didn't directly step on it, I guess.

Honestly, that would have been humiliating. What would they have put on my tombstone or eulogy?

He stepped on a mine. Yeah, that would have the day. Hey, I shouldn't even be worried about that, not because I'm alive right now, but because nobody is going to write me a eulogy. The people I just met? The woman I haven't talked to for years? It's not like she would know what happened. Which is honestly a slightly depressing thought.

All right, that's good enough motivation to not step on any more mines today.

The pain I've been experiencing for the past few minutes is joined by a sharper sensation in my leg. I reach out and touch it.

Ouch!

There's some blood down there. It's not gushing, so I took a bit of shrapnel I think. Great, fantastic. I really need to find an emergency medical kit. Should be one in the wreck. Getting over there is going to be a really righteous bitch.

Well, here I am again. Go figure that I only made it a few feet before something like this happens.

I think my luck vanished and then proceeded to bite me in the bollocks.

This time when I open my eyes, there's still the sky – but someone in standing in front of it. Standing above me.

Kreia.

"You're not going to die, murderer. But you are going to listen to me, very carefully."

* * *

Well, if all goes according to plan, I won't have to go back into that climate hellhole the Ithorians seem to enjoy so much. If they ever offer me a holiday to their homeworld, I'll have to respectfully decline. Not that I'm expecting that by any means, even if they were quite friendly to us I'm going to take a guess and assume that's because I was with the Exile at the time. The Exchange, when it was still operating anyway, was basically supporting Czerka and helping them bully the Ithorians.

Maybe non-humans don't hold a grudge? Nah, that's racist – and Luxa certainly had a few. And she was bright pink.

Still, it's going to be great to get out of this metal coffin they call a space station. It's been home for just about two years, and I'm just about through with it. The worst part was the Exchange, but guess we deal with that issue, right?

Too bad, with Peragus gone, courteous of the Exile before I joined up, this place doesn't have a source of cheap fuel. Honestly, don't know what they're going to do there. I think that was one of the aborted subplots that KotOR 2 never answered. To the best of my knowledge, this station is going to run out of fuel in about six months and drop right out of the sky. That's going to put a bit of a hamper on their restoration efforts. Namely, the station is a staging ground and holds back the acidic atmosphere from areas that are being restored.

Carth had good reason to complain about Telos. Sometimes, and I really mean a lot of the time, I wonder why they're trying so hard to save it. It might have been someone's home, and there might be something to salvage down on the surface, but at what cost?

"Do we need to let you grab anything?" Liviana asks me, breaking my train of thought and sending it hurtling into a wall.

I realise right now that we're outside the main apartment complex in this area of the station. They might not know where I live, but it's pretty easy to make a guess that it's somewhere around here. After all, my old office isn't more than a ten minute walk from here. Cut down on some transit time, right?

I run my hand over my pockets and equipment, though I already know I've got my few possessions. It's just a little habit I've done for years to make sure I never leave anything behind when I leave a room. Blaster pistol, datapad, stealth equipment. Personal possessions, though? I've only got two, my old wallet – which I really ought to get rid of, and that photo I scavenged from my flat.

Truth be told, I can't bring myself to get rid of either one. They're both my way of clinging onto lives I've basically lost or thrown away. Go me, aren't I just brimming with happiness right now?

"I've got everything I need," I finally answer.

"You sure? We're not exactly coming back anytime soon."

I take a look back towards my room, but even if I can't exactly see it right now, I know there's not anything worthwhile there. When I was there earlier today, there wasn't even a bottle of booze. Well, there was, but I chucked it at the wall if I remember correctly.

"I'd hate to haul furniture out of here," Atton smirks. "Maybe I should have brought something back from Peragus instead of just what they threw into my cell."

"You never told me exactly why you were thrown in there," Liviana says, turning towards one of the apartment complexes – presumably the one where they've been staying. I kind of forgot about Kreia… Too bad we can't just leave her. She's a bit of a downer, needless to say.

"Fake charges, they had it out for me," Atton dismisses, waving his hand. "They ran Peragus like a concentration camp. Do you honestly expect me to read every single rule in their book? At least I wasn't the one that killed all of the miners or tried to send you to Goto."

"Look at how that worked out for Corda," Liviana points out, referring to the miner that joined up with one of the HK copies and tried to send the Exile to the Exchange. "Backstabbed by the same assassin droid he tried to ally with."

"That was one piece of work," Atton agrees. "Just think about that droid we just let out. That could lie. It could only take a few upgrades and we'll have another droid capable of murdering five hundred people in the span of three days."

Five hundred people?

"You can't be serious," I voice my concerns. I knew HK could murder some serious shit – back on the _Leviathan_, I saw him take down a dozen Sith soldiers by smashing a window and sucking them out a window into the vacuum of space. I heard his stories. But five hundred people?

"There were over five hundred personnel on the facility before she showed up," Atton replies, gesturing at Liviana, "Every single one of them was eliminated within two days. Reprogramming all the mining droids to mine organics – really impressive when you think about it."

"I'm sure a protocol droid can rack that kind of score up," I point out,

"We'll see," Atton shrewdly responds.

"Please, Atton," Liviana says, "I'd be much more worried about the Sith, speaking of Peragus."

"I told you, you should have brought your lightsaber," Atton retorts. "Would have been more useful than running away. Or is that old hag preventing you from holding onto one for more than a few seconds?"

Liviana ignores the comment, and pushes her way into the B-series of aparments. There's four in here, all of which are locked. I follow Atton and Liviana to one of them, which opens right away. I don't see much of anything in here, mostly just a bed, communications anel. And Kreia, sitting on the floor. Yep, the most comfortable spot, I'm sure.

She doesn't move a muscle.

She does talk, though. "Has your business with Chodo Habat reached its end?"

"For now," Liviana answers. "He's gotten us a shuttlecraft down to the surface. We're meeting with a technician down there; he should be able to help us find the _Ebon Hawk_."

"And you are certain that the ship will be found in Telos' Restoration Zones? Once we depart, it will be much more difficult to leave this station."

"We don't have much of a choice," Liviana points out. "Sooner we leave this station, the sooner we find whoever stole the _Hawk_."

"Are we bringing passengers along as well?" Kreia questions, and I can feel her focus shifting towards Atton and I, specifically me. I'm sure she already had this discussion in regards to Atton back when they were leaving Peragus. "Perhaps if we bring half the population of this station, we could find our ship more quickly?"

Real funny, Kreia.

"Let's go," Liviana gestures back towards Atton and I. I wait as Kreia gets to her feet, and it becomes obvious to me how old she really is. She's imposing when she talks – but that's one of her strengths – her ability to manipulate and the Force, both of which are far from physical traits. You would never look at this old woman and guess 'yeah, that's a Sith Lord, and a damn dangerous one.'

I back up, and turn my back to Kreia and Liviana, a feeling I'm not comfortable with. No wonder nobody in this crew trusts each other, you feel like you're going to be stabbed in the back at the soonest opportunity.

Silence seems to have fallen across our group as we head to the one of the small transport shuttles, the ones that takes us from area to area in Citadel station, nothing too exciting. I hop in, last to do so and adjust my weapon so I'm not stabbing myself while I take a seat while Liviana tells the automated driver our destination.

I take a look out the window, barely able to see thanks to the tinted window and the concave shape I'm looking through. But I can distinctly see a few ships coming in and out of the massive space station we've been dicking around on for the past day – or more like two years in my case. There's some things about space travel that elude me to this day.

Definitely, I'm thinking of space as a vast emptiness. Maybe it's because of where I came from, but there's still a bit of romanticism about the concept, some mystery. In a few days, we could be back aboard the _Ebon Hawk_, and who knows where we'll be going? Obviously, one of the planets we have to go to for our mission… Nar Shaddaa, Onderon, Dantooine and Korriban.

Now that I think about it, each one of those worlds has an interesting niggle in my future. Nar Shaddaa has Goto, Onderon has Canderous… Assuming he's there like he's supposed to be… Running the Mandalorian clans like a boss. Dantooine and Korriban I've been to before, but under very different circumstances. On both of those worlds, I got quite a few training lessons – from Mission first, and then from Canderous, Mission and HK.

Basically, I learned how to shoot a gun without hitting myself or missing a target a few feet away.

Lots of memories, some of which were pleasant and have turned slightly sour over time. Though, I have nobody to blame for that but myself. I could probably blame Bastila and the Jedi too, but…

One of the ships out there is a Republic ship, I recognise the design, like a hammer. Like the rest of Republic property, it seems to be painted orange and grey. They really ought to make it more interesting. Paint it up like a bumblebee or something.

But, that's Carth's ship, isn't it? The _Sojourn_, if my memory is correct. I don't really hold anything against him, but he's here to take the Exile and her companions into protective custody so they can be questioned about Peragus' destruction. Well, I guess that now includes me, so I take it a reunion is out of the question.

I break out my datapad and start typing onto the virtual keyboard and clear out all the existing data from the device at the same time. In essence, I've turned it into a virtual letter. That'll work. Just don't want to leave behind traces of my communications with Goto or something. That'd be the day, wouldn't it?

'Carth', I start to write, biting my lip as I try to come up with words I'm looking for. Damn, I've never been a good writer…

I can see the docking module out the window, though. Screw it. I just start writing; not trying to revise my words or take the time to make sure what I'm saying is the most sophisticated answer that I can provide. This isn't high school and I'm not trying to get a perfect grade. Come on, Stephen it's not like Carth is going to grade you or even probably write back.

But Carth was one of my friends, and that was a pretty exclusive group if you look at the numbers… That was a pretty exclusive group. Especially since I've had to cross Bastila the bloody traitor off the list… Too bad, she was one of the few people I've met that speaks with an accent closer to mine instead of your American accent that everyone else seems to have for whatever reason.

Space Brits were supposed to at least be on friendly terms, but no…

The shuttle door opens next to me, and I wait for everyone else to file out while I read what I've written.

_Carth,_

_Hopefully this gets to you. I know it's been three years since we last talked. Your ship must be running that ship now that it's done in drydock. Good thing, guarding it was a pain in the ass. But that's not why I'm writing this._

_If you do end up getting this, I've left Telos along with the passenger you came here to retrieve. Sorry about that, but you know me – I've got a penchant for causing trouble. Don't get too worked up or cross about it. I figured I should at least say something to you or keep in contact. Hopefully we'll be running into each other again. You never know, call it a hunch or something. You know how it is with those._

_Your friend,_

_Stephen._

That'll have to work for now. If I follow the Exile all the way through KotOR 2, I'm going to be back here again for that big battle scene near the end of the game. And Carth will be back then, and even has a word with the Exile… Much better time to talk with Carth then – not when we're sort of on the run from his ship.

Carth ought to know what I mean, at least.

I walk through the dock module, glancing at my datapad every so often – slightly unsure of what I've just written. It'll have to work, and it's from the heart, sort of.

"The shuttle's in docking bay 2," Liviana mutters, glancing at a map of the module on her right.

I've been here a few times, and that's the one the Ithorians have been using exclusively for years. The next one over is owned by Czerka – and the left one is used by the Republic. Same dock the _Ebon Hawk_ was stolen right out of. Should be the same one the Republic ship sends a shuttle to.

I gesture at the TSF officer standing guard, and hand him the datapad I've been writing on.

"Could you give this to your supervisor?" I firmly ask, "I'd like to get this to the Republic Admiral in charge of the _Sojourn_. We're old friends."

I'm sure they're going to read it, and if they do, it's nothing that anyone would think anything of it except for the fact that Carth and I are old friends, exactly like I told this guy. The TSF officer looks at me funny, but he takes it without complaint. That's all I can ask for.

I move back towards my group, only to find them conversing with a protocol droid and an astromech droid. Hey, I think that's B4… Yep, that's it alright. The Czerka markings are a big giveaway. But do protocol droids in this universe always have to find an astromech droid to travel around with? I haven't the faintest clue who this particular droid is… Looks kind of old, though. Like a rusted version of T3. But T3 is supposed to be with the _Ebon Hawk_ – polar ice cap nonsense and stuff.

"B4?" Liviana asks, drawing the attention of the droid away from the blue departure board. "What are you doing here, exactly?"

"My companion and I are waiting for a ship," the protocol droid gestures at the banged up astromech standing beside him. "I believe it is headed to Nar Shaddaa. It is the easiest destination for us to book passage to on such short notice."

"Most of the outbound flights to Nar Shaddaa come through Czerka's docks," Atton points out. "Did you hand in your resignation or what?"

"Stowing aboard," Liviana comments, before the droid can retort another lie.

B4 glances at his companion before answering. "If you insist on that particular phrasing. Leaving Citadel legally is not really an option, even with Czerka facing charges from the Telosian Council."

"Are you sure we should have let this one go?" I ask, joining into the droid suspicion train Atton's conducting here.

"Should have gone for the memory wipe," Atton mutters in agreement.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," B4 replies, ignoring my immediate snort at that answer. "If you have already forgotten, I am in this situation thanks to your actions against Czerka. And I'm afraid I'm incapable of leaving my companion here. He might become violent if I leave."

"He's no taller than a refresher bowl," I comment, "And he's pretty old, too."

That doesn't seem to matter. "I would not try to upset him. _Someone_ has installed an array of illegal and lethal weapon components into his small frame."

Yeah, someone. I wonder who that could be. I'm also a little curious as to what kind of heat this utility droid is packing. It can't be as well armed as HK-47, but that was a droid with a hidden flamethrower. So maybe we really shouldn't make this little guy too cross.

The astromech droid lets off a shrill noise, along with a few brief squeaks. Unlike alien languages, my translator doesn't give an English version.

Basic, whatever they call it. No England to invent a language here.

"What? You are small! This "short man's complex" you describe makes no sense," B4 answers, giving me a partial answer to the whole 'I don't get what's going on' problem.

"Let's get going," Liviana sighs, "Best of luck with… everything, I guess."

Maybe, just maybe, Atton might be onto something with this whole 'I hate droids' thing he's always going on about. Because that astromech droid is completely insane. I can't believe that thing escaped from Czerka. And I really can't believe that it's roaming free right now. It's the droid equivalent of having schizophrenia. Damn, I thought HK was mad.

He's just a very calculated killer who takes sick pleasure out of what he does.

Yeah, the droids are all insane. Hopefully when T3 comes back into the party he hasn't gone one hundred per cent insane. Then I would have to be a bit more worried about all the droids trying to kill all humans.

Hey, it's a regular element in science fiction! Could happen…

"Chodo Habat said there's an orbital shuttle waiting in here for us," Liviana informs the Ithorian working the controls to the docking bay. "It's set to go down to one of the restoration zones."

I pace anxiously back and forth while the Ithorian checks his information. "_That seems correct. Habat wishes me to give you this, and give you his thanks for assisting us against Czerka. The evidence you extracted from their system is being presented to the Telosian Council right now._"

The Ithorian worker hands over a small little silver object – the key needed to launch the shuttle. I don't think these are automated, but I don't know a whole lot about the dynamics of space travel. There's certainly no wheel and clutch, so I don't have a clue how they are flown. From what I know, that's Atton's line of expertise in this group we're forming here.

I've done this before, so I know to stay put once the door shuts behind us, but the one in front stays sealed. There's the slight sound of hissing and the feeling of pressure on my skull for just a moment – the pressure difference between the hangar and the rest of the station is being applied.

A few seconds later, and the next door opens. I walk into the hangar bay, which is as large and empty as I expected. Behind me, there's the docking bay control run by the TSF – the operators nice and safe behind glass.

A sole shuttle rests in the centre of the bay, and it looks like a blockier version of the ones used by the Empire in the original _Star Wars_ films. Past that is an opening into space, covered by a semi-transparent purple field, the sole force holding back the vacuum that's easily capable of killing us all in a few seconds.

Pretty bad way to die, by the sounds of it.

We head for the back of the ship, and step up the loading ramp. It's a lot like the Mandalorian ship I took a trip on to get to the Star Forge all those years ago. There's a cockpit up front with two seats, and the rest of the interior is dedicated to some very uncomfortable seats, judging by their looks, and some sensor equipment. Atton and Liviana head for the front, and I take a seat in the back – as far from Kreia as I can manage here. Which isn't as distant as I would like.

Yeah, looks like I'm right – this is really uncomfortable. I just about rammed my rump right into a metal pole, and my back is already starting to get a bit sore. I idly wonder if this ship was designed for Ithorians, or simply to be as cheap as possible. This doesn't have a hyperdrive, so it's not like anyone could get far in this piece of junk. Still wouldn't hurt to add some comforts, though.

I take a look at the panel across from me, and once I realise that it's nothing more than traffic analysis. Bored, I take a look around.

Damn, nothing at all. Nobody accused me of being the most patient human being, and I'm already starting to fidget in my seat just a bit. Engines just starting, and I'm already going nuts…

And now, for the million pound question – how long will this shuttle ride take before I'm forced to make a really lame joke and try and talk to someone?

Too bad I can't ring up a friend. B4 at least brought some amusing to the table.

My stomach lurches for a moment as the ship touches off from the ground, and again as it turns around a full one hundred eighty degrees. I can kind of look out of the cockpit from here, and the exterior of Citadel comes into view.

The inertial dampers come into play, at least – so the exterior movement of the ship doesn't affect the interior. Otherwise the sudden acceleration forward would be the death of us.

I learned quite a bit during those trips aboard the _Ebon Hawk_. Along with how to play Pazaak – Nar Shaddaa rules.

"Too bad this ship doesn't have a hyperdrive," Atton comments from up front, where the planet is starting to come into view, instead of the massive sprawling space station. "Otherwise we wouldn't have to go to this graveyard looking for our ship."

"It shouldn't take long," Liviana dismisses. "We'll just land, find Bao-Dur and take the shuttle to wherever the _Hawk_ is at."

Oh, please. It can't ever be that easy.

"How do you know this guy, anyway?"

"It's a long story," Liviana mutters, changing the subject. "How long until we're at the Restoration Zone?"

"We're through the shields now, we should be near the surface in a minute," Atton answers, working at the controls in front of him, seemingly hitting at least three different panels at once.

"So, we're always going somewhere fun, right?" I ask Kreia, trying to break the obvious silence between us. "At least I got to skip Peragus, eh?"

Kreia doesn't say anything.

Okay, then.

Lame joke or comment, got that covered. Real king of comedy, aren't you?

Thankfully, something else breaks the tension. The console that used to be displaying all the traffic information is now showing the shuttle, along with a red warning. That says missile lock.

I hear Atton swear from the cockpit, and a dozen or so alarms go off at once. Oh, great. I've been on enough of these to know that this is going to end very well.

Oh fuck. I distinctly remember what is going to happen now. And it's something I really wish I could have acted on earlier. The sooner I can figure out how to actually use my little alternate dimension knowledge, the better.

The shuttle violently jerks to one side… Too damn late to avoid this little situation.

Fuck…

* * *

"You're not going to die, murderer. But you are going to listen to me, very carefully."

Oh, good. I'm being accused of something.

"Kreia," I sigh, clenching my jaw in pain. "What the hell do you want?"

One of my legs feels really numb, and something wet is trickling down my back. Probably blood. I try and take a look at the damage, and it doesn't look terribly awful. Kreia hovering over me is way, way more problematic. I mean, we've clearly not had a lot to say to one another… And I know from previous experience that she's someone I don't really want to screw with. Master manipulator right there.

And just to make things even better, I can't find Liviana or Atton. Or even Bao-Dur. Just the shuttle wreckage in the distance near the restoration zone's shields, still ablaze. Quiet, and empty. Except for a few little mines, apparently.

"The opportunity has presented itself," Kreia leans over, while I'm still laying here bleeding all over the place, probably. "Your thoughts are unusually scattered, difficult to read. But after you joined the Exile, they became apparent to me."

"Fantastic," I growl. "Anything else you really want to talk about?"

"You are not attuned to the higher powers of this universe, but you know details of the future that you cannot possibly be aware of. Your knowledge could prove disastrous, at best."

I knew I should have been more worried about Kreia's ability to skim through people's thoughts. Even Atton with his tricks against Kreia don't seem to help him. "You're telling me about it," I scowl, "If you've been reading my mind, then you should be able to answer all the questions you have about me."

"The details of your life are irrelevant to me," Kreia coldly counters. "As well as your unusual circumstances. I am solely concerned with your potential to derail the Exile's journey."

I sigh, pain shooting up my side as I do so. "What exactly do you want from me then?"

Kreia gets just a bit closer, hooded figure looming imposingly over me. "You are here because of your own reasons, your own motives. Just as the fool is with us due to a misplaced sense of loyalty – something you should be aware of," Kreia points out, much to my annoyance. "But you will not use your precognition to impact the path of the Exile."

"You want me to stay completely silent?" I snort, "Just to satisfy your plans? Why don't you just leave me here to die?"

"Your injuries aren't as fatal as you assume they are," Kreia dismisses, "What you know is dangerous, but you have your uses – even if they as limited as they appear to be. Act on your knowledge to benefit yourself, but should you speak a single word to the Exile – you will find my hand at your throat in an instant."

"Not a word?" I repeat, "I'm just meant to shut up and follow you and Liviana around, knowing full well what's going to happen?"

"Until I tell you otherwise," the old woman replies, "Your thoughts are difficult to recognise and understand, other Jedi will likely be unable to dissect your mind. Including the Exile. This deal is dependent on your ability to remain silent."

"Oh," I say, thinking back to the Jedi I've been around before. That explains a little bit, I guess. In particular, why Bastila wasn't interrogating me over all my thoughts five years ago. Damn, that would have been bloody uncomfortable. "Sounds like it would be easier for you to just get rid of me."

"Only one as foolish as yourself would eliminate a potential resource that they can control," Kreia condescends. "You may murder without distinction, but there are more intelligent ways to dealing with problems."

"I'm not a murderer," I practically spit, bitter over the accusation.

Kreia doesn't say anything about that, stepping back from me. "As I told you before, your injuries are less than severe. Rise."

Well, since you asked so nicely…

I try to stand on my feet again, and nearly stumble over doing so. However, I'm now on my own two feet. My right leg hurts like hell, but I can manage. Wouldn't be the first time, I guess. Mines, energy fields on Kashyyyk…

I pat down my belt, and find the small needle of kolto tucked in there. It isn't enough to heal me right away; I need way more for that. But it's enough that I can still work and fight. And move without having to limp all the time. One time use, I'll just have to grab another one later.

Okay, the cap is pretty easy to take off… One twist and I throw it aside. I hate doing this...

A quick flick of my wrist lands the needle straight into my neck, and a push of my thumb shoots the kolto right into my veins, which feels like ice seeping right into my body.

Thankfully, a few seconds later the immediate pain subsides, shifting into more of a continual throbbing feeling. I can live with that. It'll last for a while, and while it might not get any better, the only way it's going to get worse is if I get shot down here.

Which would suck so hard that I would have some other things to worry about.

"Where's Liviana?" I ask, chucking the needle as far as I can toss. "Or is she still unconscious after the crash?"

"You were separated when the Iridonian pulled us from the remains of the ship," Kreia answers. "The Exile went ahead to deal with the mercenaries that destroyed the shuttlecraft."

"Czerka," I hiss. "They've got dozens of mercenaries down here, don't they?"

I take a look around, and there seems to be only one way out of this little valley. A single speeder is sitting nearby, inactive, along with some droid wreckage. I guess we should see about going that way!

* * *

This part of the Restoration Zone is almost set up like a linear pathway. So, it wasn't terribly difficult for Kreia and I to meet up with the group – and even if it were, there's a trail of bodies.

It's just quiet now. Being on the surface of the planet, I feel like I should be hearing a bird or an animal of some sort. There was noise a few minutes ago, when Kreia and I mopped up the rest of Czerka's mercenaries out here. The sounds of blaster fire, grunting, and eventually screams of pain echoed throughout the valley.

Then there was silence, the same silence surrounded all of us.

Telos is truly a dead planet. Back on Citadel, it felt like there was a chance the planet could be rebuilt, a massive undertaking to repair the damage from a bloody war. I felt like this last time I was briefly on the surface – this place is more of a gravesite. Memories of the dead are the only thing you might find down here.

How morbid.

I pace back and forth, confident that I'm not going to step on another mine. Walking is only mildly painful, but I have a little bit of a problem when it comes to standing still waiting for someone to hack through a door. The problem being that it's just a bit boring.

I turn the makeshift corner, the path practically opening up before Kreia and I, exposing a beach and a more scenic valley. That beach is … grey and empty, lifeless as the rest of this place.

I haven't seen a beach in probably six years, but they're normally lovely places, except when sharks attack.

Dead, that's the best the way to describe this wasteland.

The rare tree and patches of grass aren't fooling anyone. Running perpendicular to the beach is a row of shield generators, going way off into the distance. On the other side of the shield wall… Well, it looks way worse over there. Acidic atmosphere probably isn't helping that situation.

"I thought you said they were close," I scowl, looking at the valley. I sure spot a few speeders, but my eyesight isn't good enough to see people.

"They are," Kreia simply replies.

Eh?

Oh.

Not too far from the coast line, they're scuffling with more of the mercenaries, apparently.

"Right," I mutter, picking up the pace, getting as close to jogging as I can manage with a slightly mangled leg. I close the distance fairly quickly, there are two mercenaries left, not that they're going to last much longer against Liviana, Atton and Bao-Dur.

I don't bother with stealth fields, and just start shooting at the closest one. One of the first shots is absorbed by the merc's armour, but another lands right into his face.

My blaster is pushed into my holster, along with a deep breath, signifies that this brief conflict is now at an end.

There's going to be more, I guarantee it. A video game reality means there's plenty of enemies to fight. Maybe someone should make an RPG where there's not so much combat.

I sarcastically wave at the rest of the party. "Glad to see things got along well without me."

"Take a bit of a nap?" Atton smirks, twirling a blaster pistol.

Show-off. Who does this guy think he is, Ocelot?

"You never know who's going to suffer in a shuttle crash," I snap. "Besides, there are generally more safety features for the pilot – who's supposed to avoid crashes. Good job, by the way."

"I'd like to see you fly the shuttle like that," Atton shrugs, "I could have crashed into the shield wall, and then we would have all been vaporised."

"The fool is quite… touchy," Kreia adds, walking up to the group. I like how she isn't good enough to race over here. "While you were unconscious, we were all regaled with this information. Numerous times."

"Bao-Dur," Liviana interrupts, gesturing at me. "This is the last member of my team – Stephen."

"I thought I recognised you," Bao-Dur says, his voice very similar to what I remember from the game. Quiet, almost hushed. Funny coming from a guy with horns coming out of the top of his head – an un-tattooed version of Darth Maul… With a robotic arm, which honestly looks kind of cool.

"Me?" I ask, surprised.

"I've seen you before on Citadel. You were so intoxicated at the time, I wouldn't expect you remember me. Not to mention, you were too busy picking a fight with some of the off-duty TSF officers."

Right… "Yeah, I don't remember the specifics," I admit, cheeks flushing out of embarrassment. That's not really the best story to tell to a group of people you're still trying to get to like you. "A year ago or so?"

"Something like that," Bao-Dur turns to Liviana after giving me a sceptical look. "Interesting companions you're travelling with, General."

"You get used to them," she replies, "We've still got ground to cover. How bad is that leg of yours?"

"It's fine."

That might have been a bit of a lie, but I'll be okay for the next few hours. Afterwards, I'll have to rip out the shrapnel and sterilise the wound. I can do that when we get the _Ebon Hawk_ back. Pretty easy stuff, things I learned during my time in the military. As much as I tend to get scrapped up, I figured it'd be pretty damn useful. But as long as we don't turn this mission into a race.

I reach for my blaster pistol, keeping the gun pressed between my two hands. I don't see anyone out here at the moment. I keep the weapon pointed downwards as I follow everyone else. The wide open valley we're in seems to have an exit – and we're going in that direction.

My eyes follow the path ahead of us, and the ground seems to be a bit… Lumpy? As if slight discoloured patches are present at set intervals… Mines. And there's one of the floating reconnaissance droids on the other side of the explosives.

I fucking hate mines.

"Looks like they're getting desperate," Bao-Dur says. "The landing pad and shield controls aren't far from here. Along with any of the mercenaries we haven't run into yet."

"Bao-Dur, I want you to clear as many out as we need to get through here," Liviana orders. "Atton, Stephen, take out that recon droid, would you?"

Neither of us say anything, but I raise my weapon up and take a few shots at the droid in question. Stupid git is moving all over the place, not helping one bit.

"Pure Pazaak," Atton grins, making a successful shot, ending the droid's existence in an instant.

A few moments later, Bao-Dur stops his work. "Stay to the right, or you're going to have half your leg blown off."

"Tell me about it," I spit, sticking as close to the right as I can manage. Once I get past the mines, I take a deep breath. Goodness, I'm almost surprised I didn't step on another one or something.

This area looks quite a bit like where the shuttle crashed, narrow impasse. I follow the group through, going through a pair of twists, until our objective is finally in sight… the landing pad and a few of the buildings that Czerka has set up since they seized control of the restoration zone. It's almost refreshing to see some trace of civilisation. Even if that civilisation is out for your guts.

Bao-Dur is the first one to spot our destination. "The landing pad is just over there, we should be able to find a ship from there. Might have to fight our way there."

"Of course," Atton mutters.

I do a quick head count, eying the mercenaries that are just standing in our way. They must know what there's only one way for us to go. Stupid jackasses think they can take us. Five right in front us, two turrets by the landing pad along with a few other guys. Or girls, I guess. Difficult to tell in bulky armour. Whatever, it doesn't even matter.

"Well…" A voice calls out from the pack of fools, deep and gravelly. "Looks like we've found the Jedi, boys. Saves us the trouble of hunting you and your entourage. Corrun Falt said you were dangerous, but you don't stand a chance here."

I guess that answers the gender question, eh?

"You're in my way," Liviana snorts.

Oh, great. This is going to be so much fun. Could we not at least try to talk them down? No?

The merc's orders are actually quite simple. "Attack!"

My body falls into the familiar position, weapon raised. I squeeze the trigger on my weapon once before I realise that all the mercs are pointing their own weapons at us. And there's a wee bit of a problem with that. I have a sole blaster pistol, and we're outnumbered. Not to mention they have assault rifles and really big guns…

Blaster fire rips apart the space I was previously occupying.

I slam the controls on my wrist to start up stealth mode. There's no cover here, at all, I need to compensate somehow. The only thing even close to me is a speeder. I try and get close to it, but my actions feel slow and sluggish, my legs encumbered by the stealth field. It's like rubbing soap against your body.

Nearly falling right on my ass, I get back on my feet, crouched near the speeder. I carefully aim my gun at one of the mercs. If I do this right, I can get a headshot off, and move onto the next one before any of them know where I'm at.

I get ready to fire, and right as I do so, something in the corner of my eyes catches my attention. My head snaps to the left, and I see exactly what it is. The merc leader that was threatening us just a minute ago.

Crap. I try and get a shot off, but his foot connects with my chest, slamming me right in the abdomen with considerable force, enough that I fly back nearly two or three feet on my back. Oh, look. There's the freaking sky.

"Pathetic," the merc spits, his blaster pistol pointed right at my skull.

The human takes a blow of his own – from the back end of a blaster pistol. Looks like Bao-Dur saved my arse. I thrust myself towards my fallen weapon, grab it and take a shot at the merc several times.

I turn to the next merc and land a shot.

All right!

"Stephen, get your blasted ass up and hit those turrets!" Liviana hollers.

I ignore the fact that I can barely breathe, and do as I'm told, shooting at the one of the turrets until I need to replace the power cell. I push the hair out of my eyes, and reload the weapon, demolishing one of the two turrets in the process.

See, at a distance, that's the best way to fight. Liviana's getting up close and personal, though. Glad I don't do that… At least, not on a regular basis. Because I very well might be doing it in just a minute.

The last merc near the speeder comes from my right, rushes at me screaming at the top of his lungs. What a hack. Heh.

I holster my blaster as quickly as I can manage, effortlessly reengaging the safety as I do so. My other hand runs along the length of the vibroblades I've kept latched onto my leg. It's not any larger than a normal combat knife, sharp enough to cut through this guy in front of me. Assuming I don't get hacked by his sword.

I hold the blade backwards, sidestepping his attack. Sloppy, this is stuff I saw six or seven years ago on Earth. I redirect the blade into the man's waist, ripping it out and being rewarded with a pool of blood. I repeat the action before pulling out my blaster in my other hand, finishing the merc.

Jesus! Please, can we be done with that?

Bao-Dur tosses his useless weapon off the platform, already working on the landing pad's control panel. "I should be able to access the shield network from here. The atmosphere has been turned into acidic vapour. So whoever stole your ship, General, must have found somewhere outside the restoration zones to set the ship down."

"Yeah, otherwise you might as well blow the whole ship up," Atton comments.

"There's a small anomaly. It's subtle, more like an error or anomaly. Whoever has done this has hidden their tracks well. No wonder the TSF didn't spot this."

"Because they're thick?" I mock, though making fun of the TSF is more akin to beating a dead horse that you murdered already.

Everyone, Bao-Dur included, ignores that. "Power is being used to generate a very small shield over the northern polar region. But the cameras from Citadel show nothing. Just an empty mesa."

"We should investiage this. We will find the _Ebon Hawk_ there," Kreia declares, finally saying something. Though, how come I can't say that…? You're not the only one that can see the future! But hey, if it's Jedi powers, we can't argue with that.

Fuck, I should have told them all I was a Jedi that could see the future. Far more believable.

"And it looks like we don't have a choice in the matter," Liviana scowls. "How are we getting to the polar region? Atton can walk, but I'd rather not."

"According to this, there's a shuttle in the abandoned military base. That was months ago though, and since then, Czerka scavenge teams haven't returned."

"As long as it's serviceable," Liviana says. "What's the deal with the military base."

"Czerka scavenges them. Underground, mostly. That's how they survived the Sith attack. Unlike the Ithorians, Czerka doesn't give a damn about Telos. They're only interested in finding any material they can sell on the black market. No thanks to the Exchange."

Liviana rubs her eyes, and looks over at the sole door to our right. It's unlike all the others here, slightly rusted too. "Come on. Let's go get a blasted shuttle."

It takes a few moments for Bao-Dur to finally get the door open, which doesn't help the uneasy feeling I'm getting right now. The abandoned military base looks a lot like Citadel Station, but decaying. And filled with those lovely haunted house sounds, creaking constantly.

There's a couple of droids in this first area, all deactivated. But not much else, just a purple glowing field preventing us from getting into the next area… A force field, not something you see a lot, namely because it's super expensive. Reliable, sure, and if one activates on your leg on Kashyyyk - it leaves some fantastic burns and scarring

"This arm of mine isn't just for show, General," Bao-Dur says, walking up to the force field. An instant later, his mechanical arm slapping against the field. "Czerka's mercs got a big surprise when I broke out of their hold cell a few weeks ago. And their shields were even weaker than these."

We walk through another three rooms, all of them the same setup. A few more droids, all of which are nonfictional, and there's a few bodies… All of which are clad in the Czerka uniform. Whatever was in here, Czerka must have picked most of it clean. But, it looks like we've found the shuttle we need.

It's the exact same model as the one we initially rode in on. White, two folded wings, laughingly reminiscent of the Imperial shuttles from the Star Wars films. The shuttlecraft is just resting in the launch bay. There's no exit that I can see, that is, until I look up.

Time to fly, sounds like.

I take a final look at Kreia, scowling.

Time to crash, too.


	6. Chapter 6: Organics?

Chapter 06: Organics?

"Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom."

~Soren Kierkegaard

**Author's Note: Hey guys. I saw a few reviews the past few chapters that have wondered what I'm doing with Mission. And HK-47. Don't worry about that chaps. I've got plans – one way or another. You'll have to keep reading, right?**

**Also, I felt so bad about the long wait for updates that I slaved over this one, skipping quite a bit of sleep in the process. Oops. Enjoy.  
**

* * *

I exhale, my breath steaming into a thick cloud. As I take a breath in, a good chunk of the snow working its way into my mouth. All I can see is white crystals, snow in amounts I could only wish for as a child, then despise as I grew older. I can even feel some of it coming down on my head right now, melting into water as it hits my body – which is only decreasing in temperature.

For a moment, all I can hear is my own breath, but that changes rapidly. "Irritated Declaration: There you are. It has been extremely difficult to track your party down, Jedi."

I know that noise.

"Quick Clarification: But now that we have found you, we hope that we can facilitate communications."

Psychotic meatbag. Casual murder involving some interesting methods. I know what that voice means. Generally, it's nothing good.

My muscles are incredibly sore, I'd almost like nothing more than to just lay here, even if my bollocks are going to freeze right off or ascend straight into my lungs. But with the 'irritated declarations,' and the 'quick clarifications…' I force myself up, desperately grabbing at my belt and equipment. Surprisingly, I've got everything and it feels intact. Mostly.

One shuttle crash was brutal, stepping on a mine and having Kreia manipulate me like her personal toy… That was bad. We barely made it to the artic plateau where the _Hawk_ is supposed to be. And we got shot down again.

This is definitely the artic, though.

Goodness, this place is strange. Snowy plateau with towering rocks in the corners, and a small bump behind us. Bao-Dur is out cold, right next to the shuttlecraft. Kreia, Atton and Liviana are all on their feet, a status that I duplicate.

Standing across from us are three droids, matte grey with menacing red eyes, each one wielding a different weapon. Heavy blaster rifle, two blaster pistols, and a sniper's rifle. Otherwise, they are all identical. And they're all taking the form of a particular droid's image.

HK's image.

"Unnecessary Addendum: And put an end to.. Hostilities."

Liviana's voice adds an organic element to this conversation. "Is there a reason you shot down my vessel?"

The lead HK unit speaks, its head moving in the exact same manner as the droid I travelled with. "Unnecessary Clarification: We merely wished to cripple your vessel. Once we ascertained your location, we deployed three units to this location."

The second droid pipes in. "One of us destroyed the entirety of Peragus' population; three will be more than enough to end hostilities with the Jedi and her entourage."

"Probing Query: We are curious why you chose to come to this remains of Telos' polar region. There is nothing here that our instruments can detect," the third unit declares.

These droids just speak one after another, now it's the first one speaking again. "Eager Threat: But we are looking forward to extracting your motives for coming here when we place you in torture restraints."

"Anxious Clarification: There is also a rather large sum for exterminating our employer's traitorous organic, an act that we would take great pleasure from."

I look at Atton, grimacing.

"I don't care what you take pleasure from," Liviana spits. "Why are you hunting us exactly?"

"Self-Evident Answer: Wherever you flee, we will be there, armed and ready."

"Unnecessary Threat: And our attack protocols are more than a match for you and your allies."

I un-holster my blaster, Atton does the same. "This isn't going to go well," I mutter.

"I can see this is pointless," Liviana argues. "If you want a fight, then we can oblige."

We can? I don't want to oblige. I mean, I'd really like to pound an HK unit into a pulp, but I have my concerns that this isn't possible. Reality raining on my parade.

I very slowly walk to my right, where the smoked and ruined remains of our shuttle are resting. It looks slightly better than our last one, but it's smoking all over the place, giving a touch of colour to the otherwise sterile white atmosphere in this place. If anything, I can use it as a touch of cover or something.

"Assassination protocols initiated!" One of the HK units declares, almost sounding pleased with itself.

I throw myself behind the shuttle's mangled wing, poking my head out to shoot at one the droids. A few of the blaster shots bounce right off its grey body, but one seems to have done some damage.

A blaster bolt whizzes past my skull, singing my hair just a touch. I lean out to shoot…

I scream in pain, dropping my blaster pistol into the snow. I crumble into a heap, my limbs contorted over one another. My left side falls right onto the ground, which is nothing short of agonising. Biting onto my tongue with enough force to draw blood, I look at the upper bit of my left arm, and I can see the source of my problems right now.

I've been shot! Grazed, really. Just near my shoulder, it looks like the blaster shot didn't impact me – more like it ran across my skin. Burns like absolute hell.

And I don't have any kolto on me.

This is unbelievable.

I'm going to kill these droids. By god…

I reach for my blaster pistol, gripping it hard enough to turn my knuckles white. I feel sick to my stomach; my arms are shaking so hard I don't know if I'm going to be able to aim at all. I try anyway, taking a shot at the grey blob standing against a white background. Everything else is a bit of a blur.

The HK unit's words register in my mind though.

"Systems failing, master!"

I hear it again, and again.

Three times, for three units.

I try my best to put the weapon in my holster… I think I managed. Atton's face shows up in front of me, a surprising turn of events.

"Hey, you alright?"

I shake my head, barely able to stand. I turn to the side, and throw a pool of sick into the snow.

"We've got to get inside," Liviana's voice orders. "Get your act together; you're going to make it. Better than leaving you freezing to death out here."

"What about your Iridonian friend?" Atton asks, walking in front of me as I try to follow him.

"Get Stephen inside first, we'll double back for Bao-Dur."

Hey, I'm special. I close my eyes for a few moments, and when they're open again, it's every bit as white out there as it's supposed to be. Except now there's that little hill, with a door that's been placed subtly.

The door opens in front of us, revealing a small lift. Once we're inside, I feel it descend for a few seconds before another door opens. I force my eyes open all the way – oh, boy. I recognise this place all right. The colours are all wrong, light blues and greens. But it looks awfully like the Jedi Academy back on Dantooine. Before it was burned to a crisp, an image that I'm not sure I'll ever forget.

Central pillar, just like Dantooine. No tree, but the architecture is nearly the same. And this place is empty, except for us and a few ladies dressed in all white. They even have white hair under those hoods. It wouldn't hurt to use some colour.

"Lay down your weapons, and you will not be harmed."

I can't tell which one of these albino chicks is talking, but a few more of them have popped up. Six, it looks like.

"I don't think so," Atton says.

"Either you're going to drop them, or we shall take them from you."

Well, if you're going to be like that. I put a finger near the trigger of my blaster, throwing it to the ground. Goodness, I don't even give a hoot if the safety is off. Anyone who demands that I disarm myself can deal with the gun misfiring.

One of the ladies grabs my shoulders, which doesn't fell practically great.

"One of my people is unconscious, near our shuttle," Liviana says, shrugging off one of the handmaiden's influence. "And that one needs medical attention."

"His injuries are not severe."

"I don't care what you think," Liviana challenges. "Who exactly are you lot?"

"Who we are is not important. Our mistress is. She wants to meet you. Your companions will be kept safe in the meantime."

I sigh, right as two of the handmaidens guide Liviana in the direction of the Council chambers, if you assume that this is setup like Dantooine. Which it sure looks like.

"Come with us," one of Atris' servants commands, pushing me towards the right. I say nothing as they do so, I'm much more worried about not yelping out in pain. They shove us into a room with a number of cargo containers, and several circular cells. Prison cells.

I don't want to go to jail again.

"Why is it that everywhere we go I end up in a cell?" Atton asks, visibly upset as he's the first to be thrown in and have the semi-transparent yellow field surround him. I'm next, and I don't verbally object… Neither does Kreia.

Seriously, I hate prison. I guess at this point I shouldn't be in here for too long, and I don't have to use G0-T0 to get out.

I lay down in my cell, right as Atton keeps babbling on. "I mean, why did they lock us up? What is this place?"

"Do you want to explain, or should I?" I ask Kreia, poking at my shoulder.

The old hag glares at me in response. "It is a training ground. For Jedi. It bears the semblance of an academy. But there are no students."

"You're kidding. What's a Jedi Academy doing on a planet that's been burned to a crisp?" Atton scoffs.

"It is a place hidden from the galaxy, like the academy on Dantooine. But this place…"

"It looks like Dantooine too," I add, looking around the room. "Almost like a twisted form of the Jedi Academy. Talk about weird."

Atton's head snaps in my direction. "How do you know what the Jedi Academy looked like? Either I didn't realise you were another of the crazy Jedi or that blaster shot is getting to your head. Three is enough, but nobody told me Peragus was going to be jumping ground for a nest of Jedi."

"I'm not a Jedi," I laugh. "Not only is that the stupidest thing I've ever heard, you think Goto would have employed me if I was a Jedi?"

"So you're just insane."

"What is it about this place that causes you such fear?" Kreia asks, clearly mulling over the question.

Atton opens his mouth to answer, but the doors opens as well, spitting out two of Atris' handmaiden, holding Bao-Dur's unconscious form, which they just toss onto the ground in front of us.

"You know how Jedi are," Atton continues loudly, making sure that the handmaidens can hear him, I presume.

Neither of them says a word, but one of them places a needle in front of my cell, lowers the field, pushes it inside and raises it once again, a process I recall unusually well. It's normally for food, though, but I'd rather have this.

"Not in the way you do, no," Kreia frowns, raising a hand in Atton's direction.

I ignore the two of them, and pop the needle straight into my neck. The icy liquid feels refreshing in my veins, and I think I can already feel a bit of the pain subsiding. Yep, that's the stuff…

I close my eyes and ignore the sound of Atton struggling against Kreia's invasive mind reading…

* * *

My eyelids open once again, and I'm pleasantly surprised that I didn't have a god-awful dream while I was asleep. Maybe it doesn't happen during naps, but I think it's been constant – almost every single night I've had the strangest dreams… Unpleasant to say the least.

My right leg is still riddled with three or four pieces of shrapnel, a ugly black burn as well. It'll match the scars I have all over the lower bit of that limb, I guess. My shoulder looks even worse; I might need some help with that. Maybe a mirror, but a kolto patch is going to need to be on both of those. And those are somewhat cumbersome to stay the least.

I hear snoring and groaning next to me, and look for the source. I find it pretty quickly… It's Atton. Kreia is sitting in the other cell, meditating. And just to top off this lovely group, Bao-Dur is still unconscious.

"So, this is exciting," I muse aloud. "What happened to Atton?"

Kreia's eyes practically pierce into my soul. "He's only sleeping."

"The Exile is…?"

No answer.

"Still talking to Atris, then?"

Nada, nothing.

"I can go into specifics if you'd like."

Ah, that might have gotten her attention. "Should I remind you of our conversation before our first shuttle crash?"

"Please don't," I roll my eyes.

"Then I would advise you to stay silent and be aware of your place."

"That hardly seems fair, you said that this would be the place to find the _Ebon Hawk_…"

Kreia stands to her feet, towering over me, looking imposing even though she's probably four times my age. "Silence, fool. I lack the years or patience to deal with your unnatural circumstances. The fact that you are still travelling with the Exile is a small miracle of itself."

"That's unwarranted," I pout.

"Silence," Kreia repeats, placing a much more commanding tone than before.

I start to reply, but another person is added to the mix, one that would definitely cause a problem during this whole little chat with Kreia. Liviana.

"Oh hey!" I mock surprise, waving from behind the energy shield of the containment cell.

Kreia continues her gaze of terror for just a second longer before moving onto Liviana. "Did you find what you came for?"

"What would you say I was supposed to find here?" Liviana replies, walking towards all of us.

"There was something from your past here – something unresolved. I think we did not find this place by chance, we were led here. The woman here, she did something to do you in the past."

"Atris. One of the Council."

"A Jedi, perhaps. In that you are correct. But there are no students, this woman… Surrounds herself with those who are not sensitive to the Force, even if their discipline binds them to the Force."

The Exile deactivates all of our cells. "Did you read their minds?"

"Invade the mind of another? It is not something done carelessly, or when there is nothing to be gained."

I snort, and then try to pass it off as a cough. The result makes Atton groan quite loudly. Liviana shoots the half-awake man a really odd look.

"He fell asleep," I explain quickly.

"And Bao-Dur?" Liviana questions, poking at the Iridonian's form with her foot.

"General," Bao-Dur mutters from his unfortunate position. "I need to apologise, I should have been more alert, shouldn't have fallen unconscious."

"It's okay; we're just going to be leaving here. In the meantime, we don't know who could be listening. Let's get out of here, then. Atton, you can sleep on the ship."

Atton groans. "How'd the meeting with the white-haired ghosts go? And the Jedi?"

"We got them on our side… Sort of," Liviana says. "Speaking of white-haired people, I thought your Echani training would have let you recover from this ordeal more quickly."

"Echani training?" Kreia asks, sounding genuinely interested. Or at least, surprised.

"Oh, that," Atton lightly chuckles. "Don't tell anyone about that, but you'd be surprised what a simple thing like that can do. I mean, it doesn't compare to wearing a lightsaber on your belt, but hey."

Liviana cracks a smile at that. "We've got to get T3 and get out of here."

"I thought you said this went well."

"Yeah, but they still want us gone," Liviana explains, leading the way through the subarctic base. "Making friends wherever we go, right?"

We pass by one of the handmaiden's, standing in front of a control panel that spans from the floor to the ceiling. Amongst the diagrams I can see an outline of the _Ebon Hawk_. I step forward to examine it, but the woman stands in front of it. Hey, I wasn't going to do anything. Her eyes watch me the entire time as we pass through the room.

The next one we head through has another handmaiden, and I just now realise that not only are each of them wearing identical outfits, holding the exact same pike as a weapon – but they all look as if they were all cloned from a template. Every single detail, the length of their hair, their cheeks, even the colour of their eyes. They're closer than twins!

"I got a question," I speak up. "Why do they all look the same?"

The handmaiden glares at me, but Atton answers the question. "They're Echani, siblings look like nearly the same… You didn't know that?"

"No," I admit, though I think I know what he's talking about. Six of Atris' little puppets, but one has a different parent or something. And the other five think lesser of her because of it, which is pretty scummy if you ask me. Which, nobody ever does. Which is a damn shame, but with Kreia watching…

Once the next door opens, a wave of cold air hits all of us – while it isn't as chilly as the plateau outside, it's quite unpleasant. This room must be quite close to the exit. It's bigger than the rest, and has a window on the far side, overlooking a hangar. Between us and that is a circular containment cell, much larger than the one I was just recently shoved into, which is pretty strange considering the occupant is much smaller.

Much like me, the prisoner is quite battered and beaten. A distorted image of someone I used to know.

Hello, T3. You haven't aged well.

"Well, if it isn't the droid that stole our ship. Not so smug now, are you, you little thief?" Atton comments, voicing his usual irrational hatred towards droids.

I kind of like T3, from what I remember. Now, does it remember me, I wonder? After all, T3 was there when I told everyone the truth after the _Leviathan_… Shit, this better not bite me in the rump.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kreia says. "Atris stole the ship and the droid."

"Says you."

T3 beeps and whistles, the tone and frequency different than I recall, making the droid sound considerably older and less … new. When we picked him up on Manaan, he looked like a brand new sports car. Now, more like one you'd pick up from a junk sale. At least, outward looks.

"It's alright, T3," Liviana reassures. "But what do you mean, Atris downloaded your entire database? That would have taken…"

T3 retorts, faster than I can understand.

"Wait… You downloaded all of Atris' records?"

Atton chuckles. "That droid isn't entirely worthless after all."

The energy field surrounding T3 vanishes with a low _hum_, and it rolls out and comes to a stop right in front of me. The circular head on the droid tilts to one side, blue eye flickering whilst it stares right at me.

I stare right back, mimicking the droid's movements. When I finally break the staring contest, I find that everyone else has already moved towards the right corner of the room, which I can now see that there's a downwards ramp to our ship.

"Hello again T3," I whisper, trying my best to keep my voice quiet enough.

The droid just lets out a low humming sound. If I had to guess, I'd say it almost sounds pleased. That could be wishful thinking, but whatever. Droids can show some emotion, right?

Perhaps that's a discussion for another time. I follow one of my older friends to the ship, down the ramp and into the hangar bay, where I'm treated to one of the more beautiful sights I've had the privilege of setting my eyes upon: that of the _Ebon Hawk_, with the purple containment field of the hangar illuminating the ship. Even with blackened scorch marks, chipping paint…

I missed this ship. And I never realised how badly. I mean, I haven't set foot inside in four years. But it's still home, especially now that I clearly can't live on Coruscant anymore. A load happened aboard this ship… I loved it, to say the least. Everything from the cramped bunks to the limited showers, but the latter might be more due to Darius wanting to conserve hot water. I'll have to try and steal all of it.

I walk past the loading ramp and walk all around the ship. The back right looks slightly off, like a good hunk of it was ripped out and replaced recently, and there's quite a bit of damage around the two engines. And I might be completely mad, but I think this ship might be larger on the inside than on the outside.

Must just be my imagination.

The inside of the ship is even more familiar. Dark, grey, kind of cold… There's still a swoop bike in the garage section, which corresponds with the damage on the outside, there's quite a few wires and electrical nonsense around here. To my right is the starboard crew quarters… Where Mission normally hung out. I step through the garage, past the engine room and into the central hold. The little table is still there, along with the utility closet – which is jammed shut.

The engines start up with a roar, quickly dying down. I grab onto the table as the ship takes off, though once the dampers kick in, I'm able to stand all right. I can still feel the ship move a touch, but it's just the usual feeling of space travel.

Atton steps out from the cockpit, which is a little surprising; I almost expected to see Carth instead. "Now we're off that planet, I say we burn the sky until we see lines."

I look around the central hold, T3 sliding up to stand between Atton and I, with Bao-Dur straight across. Kreia and Liviana just complete the little circle we've got going on.

"Where are we headed, General?" Bao-Dur asks, leaning over the table.

The droid beside me screeches a number of times, whistling just to top its sentence off.

"Quiet, machine, we're not speaking to you," Kreia dismisses, not even looking at the waist-high droid.

Liviana looks interested, though. "He said there was a holo-record of my trial in Atris' records. The day I was exiled. T3, if you have it. Play it."

"We seem to have found it," Kreia dryly comments, right as T3 extends his little claw, interfacing with the table.

A second later, the display kicks in, forming blue-tinted, three dimensional objects. Looks like a room, with numerous chairs all around a central pillar. The holograms even include the backdrop in the windows, the skyline of Coruscant – towers consuming the horizon. It's a lovely view, though somewhat bright at night.

The hologram apparently picked up sound, as well. It's not of the highest quality and filtered, but I can tell it belongs to the balding man in the chair. Vrook. "Do you know why we have called you here?"

I'm having a bit of trouble figuring out who exactly is seating in the seats, but they're obviously the Council. And there's Liviana, wearing the traditional robes of the Jedi, holding a lightsaber.

The real Liviana winces, an action I can see next me, as if listening to her own words from years prior. "I came on my own volition, but you asked me here as a result of Malachor V."

One of the other Jedi Masters, a man with short blonde-brown hair speaks next, his name is... Kavar, I think? "Just as Revan summoned you into the Mandalorian wars, you have come full circle to return to the Jedi."

The other male Master looks bald, but with a strange beard and moustache, and his voice is eerily similar to the US Navy adverts. "Why did you defy us? The Jedi are guardians of peace and have been for centuries. The call to war undermines all that we have worked for."

"Is Revan your master now?" one of the two women asks, in a colour scheme much like the handmaidens'. So that's Atris, the bitch. "Or is it that the horrors you wrought at Malachor that have caused you to see the truth at last?"

Yeah, I imagine Liviana had a fun time meeting her again.

"The Mandalorians had to be stopped," the hologram Liviana argues. "Without Revan, countless more would have died."

My attention is no longer focused on the holograms; I'm keeping an eye on our exiled Jedi friend. She's a touch taller than I am, but I think she's basically looking right down at her feet.

"You are exiled, and you are Jedi no longer," the final member of the Council declares.

The bastard Vrook gives the final insult. "There is one last thing, your lightsaber. Give it to us."

A sound from my own memories is played back, the _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber being activated, as Liviana shoves her lightsaber into the central stone, leaving the metal hilt deep inside the pillar, storming out of the room.

"Oh, so that's what happened to your lightsaber," Atton snorts.

Liviana looks back up, moving to cut off T3. Oh, lady, there's more.

"Much defiance in that one," Vrook observes, on his little high horse he's perpetually sitting upon.

"You were correct, Kavar," one of the Masters says, the one who's name escapes me , the bald one. "When she was here, I felt it. It was as if he was more of an echo."

"The war has touched the youngest of the Order. Many of them have lost themselves in battle."

Atris sounds livid. "We have not lost a Jedi this day. You all felt it. She is no Jedi, she walked Revan's path."

"I fear it is our teachings that may have led Revan to choose the path she did," Kavar's hologram comments. "We take responsibility, Atris, not cast blame. Revan's teacher intended no harm, and Revan had many teachers since."

Ah, they're pinning the blame on Kreia… Revan's old master. Not that Darius would have remembered.

"Yet they all stem from the same source," Vrook snorts. "Her teachings violated the Jedi Code and lead all who listen to the dark side, like the Exile."

"Malachor V should have been her grave," Atris rises from her seat, pulling the lightsaber out of the stone. "You saw it. It was as if the woman who came back from Malachor V was a very different one that left to join Revan."

"No, we should have told her the truth," Kavar argues. "She deserves to know."

Vrook joins the debate. "No good would have come from it, even if what you believed was true. But of course her master would be more inclined to show leniency."

"But she may never discover the truth," the other woman on the Council frowns, Lorna Vash. "She'll roam the galaxy, thinking that we cast her out for joining Revan."

"Then that is the truth we must accept," Vrook's last words fade into nothingness, along with the holograms. There's collective silence, even as T3 uncouples himself from the display table.

"That exchange after I left…" Liviana's voice trails off. "I had no idea."

Now it's my turn to find boots incredibly interesting.

Thankfully, T3 speaks up. Whistles up, whatever.

"A list of the surviving Jedi? You really raided Atris' archives… Display it, then."

I already know the list, of course, but I watch T3 display it anyway. Vrook, the colossal dick from Dantooine seems to still be on that planet. Kavar, Onderon. Vash, Korriban. Atris, Telos. And Zez-Kai Ell, Nar Shaddaa. So these are the surviving Jedi and the planets we'll be visiting?

"Those were all the Masters responsible for stripping me of the Force," Liviana clenches her jaw. "That's…"

"One hell of a coincidence," Bao-Dur finishes.

Kreia steps in to manipulate the situation. "It is no coincidence, there is some larger plan at work here. And we are walking into it. This is too convenient to be anything but a trap."

"Larger plan?" I question. I start to elaborate on that, but I definitely hear some footsteps… I whirl around, grabbing at my blaster.

One of the handmaidens. Hey, what the shit are you doing here?

Atris' servant isn't bothered by having an injured twenty four year old pointing a weapon at her. "Those are Atris' records you have stolen."

Atton reacts in almost the exact same way that I do, pulling a pistol out and aiming it right at the albino's skull. "What the hell are you doing on our ship?"

"There is no need to draw your weapons, I have come to join you. Atris believes that you will need help."

"And how many of your fellow servants have joined you in abandoning your mistress?" Kreia mocks.

The handmaiden, bless her, doesn't seem to show any fear talking to a party containing Kreia and two blokes asking questions at blasterpoint. I'll at least give her credit for that, but at least I didn't have to sneak aboard. "It's only me. The last of Atris' handmaidens."

"Atris couldn't send the first?" I joke, feeling fairly pleased with myself. I can tell this is going to go over alright, so I toss my weapon onto the table.

"I guess we're stuck with you," my new boss throws her hands up in defeat. "I'll take whatever help I can get. I guess."

Kreia stomps off to the port dormitory, which is of course where I used to sleep. "Of course, what does one more matter to our journey? We've already accumulated a fool, criminal, an alien, and now a servant of Atris. I have had enough of this, I will be in my chambers."

My chambers! They're mine!

"Yeah, me, too. I'll be in my chambers," Atton sneers, watching Kreia leave the hold. "Oh, wait. I don't have any. I guess I better just go to the cockpit like I did last time. If this one's coming with us, she gets the cargo hold. Might remind her of how fun it is to get locked up."

Bao-Dur rolls his eyes, walking past Atton and I. "General, if you need me, I'll be looking at this ship of yours. Looks like it hasn't seen a proper mechanic in a decade."

"The cargo hold is enough, I assure you. There is little that I need. I can attend to myself, unlike some of your crew."

"Watch yourself," Liviana warns, patting Bao-Dur on the back as he passes by. "I know you're here to spy for Atris. But don't let them bother you. We've just been through a lot."

"I see that," the handmaiden mutters, eying my arm. "I am trained in basic medical aid if you require attention."

"I'll be fine," I growl, realising that my painkillers are going to be wearing off in about twenty minutes or so. I turn to Liviana, "I've got to rip metal out of my leg if you need _me_."

I bump the handmaiden as I pass her. I don't really know who she is, except the different looking handmaiden. Different parent, something like that. I think I remember reading she could join the party, but she never did when I played. Instead, I got some stupid little blonde Jedi fanboy.

Really, I do know my way around this ship. I head straight for the engine bay, turning towards the port side, and right into the room that Jolee used to inhabit. There's a single bed in here, small shower and medical equipment. I pull open a drawer, and find the standard issue medpac.

"You shouldn't need another one of those."

I lean back, grab the painkiller and inject it right away, purely out of spite. I look back down, and find the handmaiden standing in the doorway. In that moment, I wonder if I can shut the door whilst she's still standing there.

"I thought I said I didn't want any help," I bite my lip, reaching for one of the medical tools I need. I don't recall what it's called, but it should work for my purposes. "Or is that just you hear no and assume that yes is the actual answer?"

"One of my sisters examined you while you were asleep," she answers, grabbing something else from the medical supplies. "You must have stepped on one of the mercenaries' mines in the restoration zone."

"If I knew you were all going to inspect me, I wouldn't have taken a nap," I spit, hopping onto the bed, throwing my injured leg in front of me.

I grab one of my tools, pulling up my jumpsuit legging. Oh… I don't know if I can rip this out…

"Hold still," the Echani woman orders, gloved hand clamping onto my shin. Her other one snatches the tool straight out of my hand.

"Oh, no, no!" I squirm, trying to break out of this new imprisonment. My efforts are fruitless, and I feel a ripping sensation in my leg, even with the painkillers.

The handmaiden makes a face, holding a tiny piece of metal no more than a few centimetres wide. I grind my teeth together as she does the same to the other piece of metal protruding from my shin. She drops both pieces in a bin, releasing me – though she's left red handprints on my leg.

"I could have done that," I dismiss. "Pass me a Kolto patch, would you?"

"What about the blaster shot?" She inquiries.

"That's what this is for," I sigh, slapping the patch onto my shoulder. It's like an icy patch, but only ten thousand times better. I'm certain I'll be sporting a scar, but I'll just have to deal with this patch in the meantime. It'll teach me not to get shot by HKs in the future. Bah, I'll be injured again later. It's my lot in life.

"It would be better if you tended to the wound first," the handmaiden points out.

"It's fine, I know what I'm doing. I've been trained… A while ago," I wave my hand.

"With all due respect, Atris had some interest in the Telosian Restoration Project. Based on TSF reports, your skills are somewhat questionable."

My mouth drops open. "You believe the TSF? While you sit in an icy hellhole?"

"I would only point out your current injuries. I never meant offence"

"Alright, if we're going to play the whole 'no offence' game," I place plenty of emphasis on two particular words with finger quotes. "Why do you look different than the rest of the handmaidens?"

"We share the same mother, but a different father," she admits, walking out of the medbay. "It isn't something I'd like to discuss."

"Alright, alright," I follow her, walking to the cargo hold. "I don't think Atton was serious when he said you should bunk in here."

She shrugs, throwing up her hood. "This is ideal. The space allotted will allow me to train while we are en route."

"Train?" I snicker. "Trust me, as many of us are travelling on this ship, we could organise a Pazaak game or something."

Now it's the handmaiden's turn to laugh. "No, thank you."

"Yeah, I guess it's hard to play with someone whose name eludes you," I point out, offering my hand. "I'm uh… Stephen, by the way."

The woman doesn't shake my hand. "I gave my name when I entered Atris' service. Handmaiden will suffice."

"All … right," I widen my eyes, stepping backwards. "I'll let you … train then."

Well, that was interesting. I rub my eyes, stumbling over my own feet. I stroll through the ship, running my fingers across the hull, taking in the engine's high pitched noises as the ship leaps into hyperspace. Taking my time with every step, I end up in the garage, where Bao-Dur is tinkering with one of the bulkheads.

"Hey," I greet with a wave. Hopefully Bao-Dur is a little more talkative, but I guess we'll just see about that. "Already at work?"

"It's not so much work. After dealing with those mercs in the restoration zone, it's almost refreshing to work on something as messy as this."

"Messy?" I retort. "This ship's a beauty, to say the least."

"Whoever did this doesn't think like most people do," Bao-Dur says, not turning away from his work. "At least with this… there's no Czerka hindering me at every turn. Or the Exchange"

I lean against the speeder, rubbing the back of my neck. "Oh. You know about that, I take it."

"I think everyone, even the TSF knew what the Exchange was up to."

"I'm not terribly proud of that," I admit, blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Must not have been if the assassin droids claim there's a bounty posted for you."

No kidding, G0-T0 must be pretty displeased. Stupid droid. "They don't like it when you quit."

"And if you were a touch less lucky, you would have had your entire arm blown off."

"At least I was awake," I point out, trying to sound good natured about it.

Sparks fly from the wires Bao-Dur is messing with. "Are you done? I've got to rewire the lighting in this entire section."

"I'll let you work," I say, walking towards the ship's ramp.

Obviously, that's not going to lead anywhere. I glance towards my right, and seriously consider poking my head in the starboard dormitory. I take one step in, turn around and walk back out.

Nah, I'm not staying in there.

I chuckle aloud. Pazaak.

Nar Shaddaa rules.

I go ahead and walk to one of my usual spots from the last time, the cockpit. Which is apparently now Atton's "chambers." He's sitting in the _exact_ same spot that Carth used to occupy, the pilot's seat. The windows in front of us are filled with the blue vortex of hyperspace, nothing out of the ordinary. I go ahead and take a seat in the co-pilot's spot.

Bastila's spot.

"Just flying the ship," Atton turns his chair towards the co-pilot's side. "I didn't realise I needed Exchange supervision for that."

"Would you rather have a droid watching you?" I mock, "Maybe we could turn around and get B4 and his nutjob astromech friend."

"I think we've already got a nutjob astromech. Watch out for it, I think it cheats."

"Cheats?"

"At Pazaak."

I have to hold back laughter, picturing T3 cleaning Atton out, and I've got to switch the subject. "Any idea where we're going first?"

Atton spins about, peeking at the galaxy map console. "I'm hoping for Nar Shaddaa. Between Jedi and Sith, we could just hide there for a while. Loads of refugees."

"And the Exchange," I remind him. "I think I'd rather not go there."

Atton turns back to his console. "Maybe you should have eased up on your resignation, then."

"Yeah, thanks," I mutter, getting back up. "Let me go find something a touch more exciting."

I stare at the galaxy map, already programmed with the possible destinations. Nar Shaddaa, Dantooine, Korriban and Onderon. Like I just told Atton, I really don't want to go to Nar Shaddaa. Between the Exchange and the vile ass pit that the planet is… And I think that's where the Exile can get HK back, but I'm not entirely positive.

I wonder if there's a way to put that off.

"So, why did you do it in the first place?"

I turn back around, Atton looking at me accusingly.

"What?" I ask, looking back at the map. Maybe Onderon would be okay…

Atton grimaces. "How did you end up with the Exchange? You don't seem like the type. Not to mention getting shot and screaming your way through medical treatments… And I saw your co-workers."

I slide up next to the map, figuring out the best jab to send in Atton's direction. "And it's never occurred to you that not being the type was why I was good at it? Or given different jobs than Luxa and Slusk?"

"Oh, yeah? Big man, right?"

"Goto used me to keep an eye on everyone, a lot less glamorous than you would think," I think back to the two and a half years I sent making sure Benok and Luxa didn't fuck everything up. "The other part of my job included drinking lethal beverages and sleeping underneath my desk. The latter was quite fulfilling."

Atton looks … unconvinced. "That still doesn't answer my question."

I gaze out the cockpit, into the endless blue tunnel. "Goto got me out of a tough spot, an offer I couldn't really refuse. I didn't realise there would be quite so many strings attached."

"So your contract was just open to the highest bidder?"

"It's better than being reprogrammed," I deflect, moving away from the map.

The pilot tinkers with his console for nearly ten seconds before continuing. "It still makes Goto your puppet master. Don't worry, this journey is full of them. Your new one is the old witch herself."

"Yeah, she's a piece of work," I agree, right as a thought clicks in my head.. "I'm going to go find T3. See you later, might have to bust out a Pazaak deck."

"I'm out of credits," Atton shouts as I exit. "And no Nar Shaddaa rules, our clothes are staying on!"

The small smile on my face quickly transforms into a frown. Nar Shaddaa rules…

I push those thoughts out of my mind, stepping into the communications hub that's just behind the cockpit, holding back memories of a different sort. I remember this place, between missions, I'd find Darius in here.

There's plenty of seats, a few computers… Yeah, this'll do nicely for my 'chambers.' I unhook my belt and stealth gear, tossing it on one of the seats – followed by my datapad. Wallet, I probably should hold onto that given the contents… The only other thing in my pockets is the photo, which I take out and place in front of the seat.

There, this room now has more in the way of personal possessions than my flat on Citadel Station.

I wander back into the main hold, eventually finding just the thing I'm looking for, along with one of the things I hate with just about every fibre in my body. The little utility closet is now opened, complete with the deactivated frame of HK-47 – with T3 against the wall.

"Please don't tell me you're trying to fix this thing," I plea, lightly touching HK's head. Not so tough now, are you? "You remember all the grief it gave us, right? I want to kill this, I want to kill you!"

T3 sounds … eh, offended? Irritated? Definitely heard something about firepower.

"I know you're not a combat model!" I shout, before toning my voice down. "But there's plenty of us that can fight. Nothing is worth dealing with HK."

Okay… Something about assassination and my lack of skill. Dick droid. And then …

"I don't know," I reply. "I mean, maybe there's some unwarranted hatred. But between the two of us, I know the future, right? But between us – keep it quiet."

T3 makes a long _dwoo_ sound at that.

"Because," I say, taking a stab at what T3 is asking. "Kreia's blackmailing me. So, we've got to keep this to ourselves. And this stupid piece of shit."

The astromech droid wheels over to the door, shutting it with a simple motion of its robotic arm. It beeps a few times afterwards. At least, that's what I heard; my droid is a bit rusty.

Heh, rusty.

"Yeah, secret closet," I grin like an oaf. "I didn't give you enough credit five years ago, T3. Just don't hit me, okay?"


End file.
